Passing the Torch
by Cyborg0
Summary: Harry decides enough is enough when the Order once again keeps him isolated after Dumbledore's death. He escapes Privet Drive and goes out into the world by himself to search for a respite from the threat of Voldemort, while the UK crumbles.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: I do not own Harry Potter. Please be aware that this story is currently discontinued, and may be forever unfinished. Just a warning.

Kaycee Pearson gave a small sigh and an imperceptible smile as she watched pine trees fly past the car window. Something good was going to happen. She felt it. Ever since the beginning of summer, and the end of Kaycee's junior year, she had known that her life would change forever. It was something of a gift that she had, a gift that she had come to terms with long ago and never really told anyone about, not even her family.

It had been a few weeks ago, only three days after school had ended, when Kaycee had had a most unusual dream. In it, she had seen mixed images of happiness and despair, people opening presents around a Christmas tree, laughing as her brother blew out the eleven candles to his birthday cake, round wire-frame glasses, lightning and thunder, burning houses. She shivered, not wanting to think about the negative aspects of what she knew to be a vague vision. Kaycee had always gotten visions and premonitions like this. Usually they manifested as strong feelings, not to go this way, to choose this thing over another, even what to say to someone. Any dreams Kaycee had usually affected her life and family in fairly drastic ways. One dream she had gotten warned her to pull over to the side of the road when she saw a man in a yellow raincoat. The next day she had been driving when she saw a billboard on the freeway. It depicted a man in a yellow raincoat selling tuna. She immediately pulled over into the emergency lane, just before the car in front of her blew its tire and created a pileup with three deaths.

Kaycee did not know how or why she got these premonitions, whether they came through dreams or feelings. All she knew is that they had never done her wrong in the end, and so she looked forward to her families yearly trip to their cabin in the mountains more than ever.

"Dad, are we almost there?" Matt asked. Kaycee had to stifle a laugh as her brother bounced in his seat in anticipation. He loved the water, and the lake that was only a hundred feet from their back porch was always perfect in the summer.

"Not quite, Matt, only thirty minutes," her father replied.

"Can't you go a little faster," Matt persisted, "I want to get in the water before it gets too cold outside!"

"I'm sure the water will be plenty warm for you honey," Kaycee's mother said patiently. "The lake won't be going anywhere."

Matt nodded reluctantly and said, "Okay." He switched his game boy back on and thoughtfully turned the volume down before anyone asked. Kaycee smiled again. Matt could sometimes be annoying, especially around the very few boys that she had brought home to meet her parents, but was really the best little brother a girl could ask for.

The next few minutes passed in silence. Kaycee had returned to staring out the window, happily trying to figure out what exactly would happen to her during the summer. She was going into her senior year at her high school and planned to get a job over the summer. Could that be it? No, she quickly dismissed the idea, it was too simple and she could have figured that out on her own. Her premonitions always told her something she wouldn't have foreseen normally.

It was during her pondering when she felt it. That familiar warm tingling that started in her fingertips. It spread from her fingers down into her palm, seeping in through the crevasses in her skin like water in a valley. Slowly, she put her hand to her forehead like she had done many times before and gave in to the images that flowed through her mind. It was busy and hard to understand, suggesting from previous experience that the vision was relevant to here and now. Two images from her vision dominated all the others, a boy with black hair and a name, Gordon's Trail.

Kaycee snapped her eyes open in time to see a street sign flash by her window. It read, 'Gordon's trail, ½ Mi.' Below it was a picture of a toilet, signaling that there were restrooms available at the head of the hiking trail. Kaycee usually didn't lie to her parents, but she had to do whatever was possible to follow what her premonitions told her to do. "Dad?" she asked, "Can we stop at the bathrooms? I- I have to go." This was it, Kaycee knew. The vision had been strong, and she knew what who she would find at Gordon's Trail. Now there was only one question, who was that raven-haired boy?

*

The morning fog of Privet Drive looked unbreakable as the sun rose unseen in the eastern sky. The dark rainclouds that hung ominously over the pristine street filtered any comforting sunshine into a dull gray. Thunder sounded somewhere distant, and rain began to pour down upon the sleeping homes. Lawns soon became muddy, the streets and sidewalks slick, and the windows seemed to cry in despair as water streaked down their faces. It was Saturday, so most residents slept to the sound of pattering rain in peace. It would probably be an hour before anyone awoke.

There was one soul, however, that was up and about on this joke of a summer morning. Harry Potter appeared from the front door of Number Four, dragging a heavy trunk behind him as he stepped out into the rain. He left the door open, secretly hoping that the Dursleys found their house cold and wet when they awoke. It would be fitting, Harry thought, to have a cold and depressing house for cold and depressing people. He smirked, knowing that the Dursleys would have that last memory of their freak nephew.

Harry arrived at the sidewalk of Privet drive and pulled his trunk onto the black asphalt where it landed with a thunk. Water splashed from his jet-black hair, soaking into his quickly saturating jumper. He shivered as he felt the cold water finally soak through to his skin and looked down the street. Only about a hundred feet to go. Harry tugged again and began moving, the trunk scraping against the rough black road. Harry soon worked up a cold sweat, his breath fogging in the frigid morning air.

All questions of doubt had been reasoned away long ago, when Harry had first formed the plan in his mind. No one else would die helping him. His parents had been first, then Cedric, Sirius, and now Dumbledore. He would not allow it to happen to anyone else, especially Ron and Hermione. No, he had to leave, secretly and quietly, with no trace of where he went. Only Ron, Hermione, and himself knew of the Horcruxes existence and Harry planned to keep his hunt secret. It was his destiny, and he alone must bear the pain. With England in the state it was, Harry was sure that Ron and Hermione would be carefully guarded so they couldn't seek him, or the Horcruxes, on their own. There was even hints of them moving out of the country while the Order fought against the forces of Voldemort.

Things were, in short, an absolute mess. Voldemort had increased the frequency and ferocity of his attacks. Diagon alley had become an empty street with half of its shops closed. Parents were withdrawing their children from Hogwarts. Wizards were fleeing England, moving in with family on the mainland or in the Americas. Corruption was rampant in the Ministry. Scrimgeour, who was barely hanging on after the attack at Hogwarts, had declared a state of emergency, authorizing Aurors to kill Death Eaters on sight. Harry knew that the war had now truly started. Casualties on both sides were reported daily in the newspapers. Confrontations between the dark and light were quickly becoming more like full-fledged battles.

Muggle England was not much better. Remote areas of the country were soon found scorched and bloody. The Muggle news reported a rise in attacks from an unknown and highly skilled terrorist group. The Prime Minister was under heavy scrutiny by the public, and there was even talk of a vote of no confidence to replace him. Harry wondered how much longer the war could be kept from the world. He knew that neither side wanted Muggles to find out about the wizarding world; Voldemort because he despised them and the Ministry because of the paperwork.

The Order was now the main fighting force against Voldemort. Recruitment had shot through the roof as wizards and witches joined the war on the side of light. McGonagall had taken over running the Order as well as Hogwarts, and seemed intent on keeping Harry as 'safe' and isolated as possible with the Dursleys, just like Dumbledore had in the beginning of fifth year.

Harry was sick of it. He was no longer defenseless, no longer a child. He would be turning seventeen in a few weeks, an adult in the wizarding world, and no one treated him any differently. He had been everything but officially named Dumbledore's apprentice! Even Harry knew that was supposed to carry a lot of weight by wizarding tradition, but McGonagall was repeating Dumbledore's old mistakes. Harry was not going to sit quietly, he was leaving. The Horcruxes were waiting for him, and maybe he would find something in the world worth saving during his travels.

Harry moved along the street, accompanied by the lonely drone of rainfall and the dull scraping of his trunk. His thoughts drifted towards Ginny, and what she had said to him during their breakup. Did she truly think he, Harry, only cared about killing Voldemort? Was she interested in him, or in Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world and Teen Witch Weekly's most eligible bachelor? Harry's eyes narrowed in anger, for he knew the answer. Someone he thought was his friend once again had used him. Harry shook his head and scowled.

Harry stopped at a red mailbox, belonging to number seven, Privet Drive. This was it, the border of the protective wards around number four. Harry stopped for a second to think, but tugged on his trunk again. Ten more feet, he thought, just to be safe.

"Ginny," Harry said to no one as he moved the last few steps to his freedom, "You should have known that I'm not happy hunting him. You, of all people, should have known that. I want a life, friends, a house, and a family. I used to think that I would share my life with you, but now I know better. Now I know that it was a mistake."

With the red mailbox ten feet behind him, Harry dropped the handle of the trunk and straightened up, brushing the wet hair from his eyes. He felt the underside of his left wrist and ran his fingers over the unseen wand holster that had been one of Dumbledore's last gifts to him. Harry had learned much from his old mentor, about Voldemort and magic in general. He was particularly proud of the permanent invisibility charm that now rested around the beautifully crafted holster. Coupled with a permanent sticking charm around the buckles, the invisible holster left Harry's wand in a secure, easy to reach place.

He removed the wand from it's sheath and cast a simple shrinking charm on his chest, adding a wrist movement with his left hand that made ministry detection of underage magic delayed, if they ever picked it up at all. He stowed the now plum-sized trunk in his pocket and looked around for an item to use in his next task. A newly delivered newspaper sat in the driveway of number seven, so Harry picked it up and tossed it down where his trunk used to be in the middle of the street. He glanced down the street both ways, looking for any witnesses before realizing that it didn't matter. He was sure that he would be making quite a show in a few minutes. Harry drew his wand and fixed his gaze onto the newspaper, concentrating hard. "Portus," he said, once again utilizing the left handed flick Dumbledore had developed as he cast it. The paper glowed blue for a moment before returning to its normal off-white color.

Harry returned his wand to the wrist holster, watching fondly as the stained wood seemed to disappear into a pocket of air. The catch that secured his wand in place snapped shut automatically, and would open as soon as Harry touched it. He gave one last glance towards the prison that had been number four, Privet Drive and was happy to see three cats streak inside the front door to escape the rain. Harry hoped that they liked the place and began marking their territory as soon as possible. Wouldn't that be a nice present for his aunt to wake up to, the chill of the rain and the smell of cat urine?

It was time to go. The Portkey spell took a lot of magical power and the ministry would be sure to pick it up soon. Harry drew his wand again in preparation for another of Dumbledore's spells, one that he had never shared with anyone but Harry. The Chaff Charm disguised magical signatures in a given radius. This meant that disapparitions or Portkeys activated in its area of effect became untraceable. It required no incantation or wand movement, just sheer force of will.

Harry gripped his wand upside down and put one knee down on the asphalt. He set the tip of his wand gently onto the dark surface and closed his eyes. After a few seconds red light shone through the cracks of the fingers in Harry's clenched hand. For a few moments it would seem as if nothing more would happen, then the light slowly grew in intensity, accumulating into a blood red sphere. It suddenly shot down the shaft of Harry's wand and into the dark ground. A circle of red shot out in all directions coating the ground in a crimson red tint with Harry still kneeling in the middle. The air around Harry shimmered at random and the rain stopped immediately, unable to penetrate the invisible walls of the spell.

Just as Harry stood and stowed his wand a series of cracks and pops signaled the arrival of various Order members. They were always faster than the Aurors, especially when it concerned the 'safety' of their Chosen One.

"Mr. Potter, just what in Merlin's name do you think you are doing? Do you have any idea what kind of trouble this is going to cause with the Ministry?" McGonagall met Harry's eyes with a glare unlike he had ever seen. Harry thought the stress of running the order had really gotten to he. She had given him looks of disapproval and disappointment before, but never one like this.

"Professor you should have seen this coming. You probably should retake History of Magic, as you don't seem to learn from the mistakes of the past. You remember what happened last summer."

McGonagall's eyes softened slightly. "All I know, Mr. Potter, is that you are currently breaking the law. Now please drop this spell and return to your aunt and uncle's house, we can take care of the Ministry."

Harry shook his head. "It's a bit too late for you to undo what has happened. I am leaving to do what I have to do. I suggest you try to use this to your advantage. Put the word out that I have died, draw Voldemort out into the open."

"Leaving? Mr. Potter, what are you talk-"

"Say goodbye to Ron and Hermione for me." Harry bent down and picked up the newspaper. He glanced around once more and saw Remus looking back at him with sadness etched on his face. "I'm sorry Moony, but it has to be this way."

Remus said nothing for a few seconds, silently appraising Harry, before he said, "I trust you, Harry. Please stay safe and come back to us soon."

Harry nodded to the last marauder before shifting his gaze to the newspaper. Oh, how he hated Portkeys. "Three, two," Harry almost smiled at the shock evident on McGonagall's face, "One."

Privet Drive vanished in a swirl of color as Harry was whisked away into nothingness. He was very confident of his ability to make a Portkey, but he frowned at the speed he seemed to be traveling at. It was too slow. Suddenly another force gripped Harry by the hand and spun him around as the Portkey continued to pull onward. Harry tried to scream in pain as he was pulled in two different directions, but no sound came out of his throat. The Portkey started to slip from his grasp, unnoticed due to the almost overwhelming pain that Harry was experiencing. His fingers lost the connection, and the newspaper shot out of sight into the swirling ether. The remaining force on his hand seemed to slingshot Harry sideways before it too released him. Harry fell unconscious as the pain was finally too much to bear and submitted to the darkness. He continued forward to his unknown destination in a swirl of wind and color.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry slowly regained consciousness, but kept his eyes closed. He had learned from past experience that he could learn much more if people thought he was asleep than when they knew he was awake. A pillow rested underneath his head and heavy sheets covered him up to his collarbone. The bed was warm and comfortable, much like his four-poster in his dorm. He felt the sun beating down on his face, meaning it was daytime; probably not at Privet Drive or Grimmauld Place. There had barely been a day of sunshine at the Dursleys, and there was no sunlight at all at the Headquarters. Light seemed as if was sucked into the very walls in that disturbing house. He heard the faint tinkling of dishes from somewhere in the room. He wasn't alone, and the other soul inhabiting the room was probably friendly. Death Eaters would not put him into a comfortable bed and feed him. The distinct creak of unoiled hinges told Harry that someone else had entered the room.

"Has he waken up yet?" a mature female voiced asked. Harry breathed through his nose and focused on making his eyelids as still as possible. He turned away from the sun in what he hoped was a natural movement.

"Not yet, mom. Should be soon though, I think," another younger female voice replied. It sounded much closer to Harry's age. Mom? Harry wasn't in England anymore, to be sure. From the accent and the girl's use of 'mom' he figured he was in America. That isn't so bad, Harry thought. If the portkey really had sent him off in a random direction, he was lucky not to have landed in the middle of the ocean.

"You think so, dear? He doesn't seem to like the sun in his eyes. At least he isn't in a coma like I thought."

"But he does have cracked ribs?"

"Yes, however there isn't much that anyone can do about that except give you some drugs and tell you to take it easy." They were definitely Muggles, very good. Harry could hardly believe his fortune. If Muggles had picked him up, he may have shaken the wards after all. The blood ties were probably much stronger than he expected for them to try and catch him after he was outside their boundaries.

"Will he be alright, mom?" Harry was surprised at the concern in her voice. Why did she care so much?

"Of course he will, honey. He's young and healthy, if a bit on the skinny side." Harry was forcibly reminded of Mrs. Weasley. There was a silence, and Harry suspected that the mother and daughter were hugging. "Make sure he gets something to drink, and as much soup as he can handle," the mother said.

"Okay." Harry heard the door close and figured it was time to take a peek. He had learned all he needed to know, and the soup smelled very good. He used the sound of the door closing as an excuse to awaken. Harry opened his eyes and searched for his glasses. He saw them within reach on a low, small table near the bedside. He put them on and the room came into focus. A girl with brilliant blond hair that went down to her shoulder blades had her back turned to him. Harry heard the cap of a bottle of water being removed.

Harry lifted his head off of the pillow and tried to sit up, but immediately regretted his decision. He laid back down with a groan as pain shot through his chest. The girl turned to face him.

"Oh, you're awake! How are you feeling? Would you like something to drink, or eat? I have, uh, soup." She trailed off at her last remark, looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I know that I shoot off at the mouth sometimes."

Harry smiled weakly, surprised at the girl's outburst at seeing him awake. "I'm alright, doesn't hurt if I don't move too much. My name is Harry, by the way. I think I have a rough idea of what happened to me, but could you start by telling me how I got here?"

"That would be a good place to start, wouldn't it? Okay. My name's Kaycee." She stopped talking and looked at Harry, seeming to forget his question.

"Nice to meet you, Kaycee," Harry prompted, smiling at her somewhat bizarre behavior.

"Oh!" Kaycee blushed. "How you got here, right. This is our vacation home, in California, if you didn't know. You don't sound like you are from around here. Well, we were driving up the mountain and I had to go to the bathroom. We stopped at the opening of a hiking trail and I saw you lying on the ground. There is a small clinic up here, and they were able to do some x-rays. You have a couple of cracked ribs. Mom says you can start walking around as soon as you feel up to it if you just take it easy."

Harry nodded. A few cracked ribs could be easily taken care of with Episkey. Also, the fact that Kaycee's family had taken him to a small clinic instead of a hospital boded well for Harry's secrecy. "That's good. I guess the only thing to say now is thank you."

"It was nothing," Kaycee replied. "I'm sure anyone would've done the same thing."

"No, not many would have done what you and your family did. I know plenty of people that would have cracked another one of my ribs and left me there. No one would take a stranger into their home."

Kaycee said nothing to that. Instead she said, "Are you hungry? Mom said that you should eat. You've been out since we found you yesterday and I don't know when you ate last." She pulled a small foldable table that held a glass of water, some cheese and crackers, and a bowl of chicken noodle soup nearer to the bed. The smell of the broth started to make Harry's mouth water as Kaycee helped him sit up slowly against the headboard. She put a few pillows behind his back and he started to eat.

Harry and Kaycee chatted about inconsequential things as he worked on his meal. Harry had learned a bit about Kaycee's family. Her father, Stephen, was a firefighter. Harry had listened with genuine interest as Kaycee related some of her father's stories to him. He had, of course, known what a firefighter was, but some of the slightly gruesome medical calls Stephen had been on surprised Harry. They forcibly reminded Harry of the battle at Hogwarts, the fallen victims, and the pain that he had seen there. Jaclyn, Kaycee's mother, was a stay-at-home mom and had picked up writing when Kaycee and her brother Matt began to take care of themselves. She had recently gotten her first book published and was working on a sequel. Matt was Kaycee's energetic ten-year-old brother who would be having his birthday in a week. Harry loved hearing this girl talk about her family. He didn't quite know why, but he loved the carefree way she did it. Kaycee did not worry about Voldemort, or war, or death. She was not ignorant, but she was innocent of the war that threatened to destroy her world.

"Harry? Earth to Harry, come in," Kaycee craned her head slightly to catch Harry's gaze, which was currently directed into his soup.

"Hmm? I'm sorry, I was thinking."

She laughed at him as he snapped back to reality. "I could tell. I said enough about me. What about you?"

This was the moment that Harry had been dreading. He didn't want to lie to Kaycee. She was a very nice girl who had trusted him, a stranger, explicitly without anything in return. Harry decided that if she asked something he couldn't answer, he would say so. "Very recently, someone who was like my grandfather died." He looked at the shock in Kaycee's eyes and immediately regretted starting off on such a negative note, but continued on. "After that, I decided to travel the world a bit. You know, find myself I guess you could say. I just graduated and have a bit of money from various inheritances, so the money won't be a problem as long as I find a job within a few years. I've lived in England all my life, if you can't tell."

"Yeah, I could. You sound so sophisticated." The look in her eyes told Harry that she was playing with him.

"I think that your accent is more interesting than mine could ever be. Anyways, this was my first stop on my world travels, and I actually don't really know how I ended up on that path." That was really the truth, there was no more reason for the Portkey to dump him out here than anywhere else.

"So you don't remember how you got there? I wonder if you got mugged or something. Do you still have your wallet?"

This could be problematic, Harry thought, remembering his promise not more than a minute before. "No, my wallet wasn't stolen. I don't carry one, actually."

Kaycee looked at him strangely, but was denied asking him any further questions for the door to the spare bedroom opened just then. An older woman looking much like Kaycee walked in and smiled at Harry. "How are you feeling?" Jaclyn asked without preamble.

"I'm doing fine," Harry responded, answering Jaclyn's question before saying anything else. "My name's Harry Potter. Thank you for taking me into your home. I think I owe your family my life." Harry realized with a start that he did indeed owe Kaycee's family his life; a life-debt to be precise. This new revelation shocked him, but did not bother him too much. There were worse people that he could be tied to in such a way.

"It was nothing, Harry. We are just glad that we could help another soul, even if it was just in a small way."

"Most people wouldn't do what you did," Harry replied. "I could be a criminal on the run, and you still helped me."

"Are you a criminal?" Kaycee asked. Harry looked at her and couldn't tell if she was joking or not.

"No, just a lost traveler," he replied easily.

"Even criminals don't deserve to die in the woods alone," Jaclyn said. "And besides, Kaycee said that you weren't a risk. She seems to have very good instincts about things like this."

"Mom!" Kaycee exclaimed.

"Oh, sorry, dear. Let me just go find Stephen and Matt. I think they are doing yard work right now. They've been wanting to meet you too, Harry." Jaclyn exited the room again, leaving the door ajar.

Kaycee cleared away the dishes before sitting on the bedside and started chatting with Harry about what fun things there were to do around the cabin and the town. Harry realized that Kaycee had been leading up to something when she said, "Harry, while you were sleeping, Mom said that you could stay here for as long as you want. You're hurt and traveling alone."

Harry was surprised at such an open invitation. "That's generous, but why would you do something like that?"

"Would you like to? I'm sure you'll like my dad and brother." She didn't exactly meet Harry's eyes.

It seemed that she had her secrets, just like Harry did. "If it isn't too much trouble, it would be wonderful. Thank you."

"He's awake!" a deep voice said from the doorway. Kaycee's father, Stephen stood there in his full six foot three, mustached glory. His arms looked more like heavily muscled legs with hands sewn on instead of feet. Harry wouldn't doubt for a second that this man could bust down the door of a burning building with ease. "I'm glad to see that you're sitting up. Ribs aren't too bad then. No concussion either."

Kaycee's entire family seemed to treat Harry with a casual sense of normalcy. No one demanded his name when they first talked to him. It seemed that the first thing on their minds' was his welfare. How strange, he thought. "No, I'm doing alright, thanks for asking. My name's Harry Potter."

"Well, pleased to meet you, Harry. I'm Stephen Pearson, Kaycee's father. Call me Steve. This is Matt." Steve moved to the side to show a young, sandy-haired boy, absolutely skinny compared to his father.

"Hey," Matt said. "You from England?"

Harry laughed at the bluntness of Matt's question, wincing immediately at the pain it caused his ribs. "Yeah, I am. You from California?"

Matt smirked at him. He seemed to be brimming with confidence in comparison to Harry when he was ten. "Yep. I like you."

Later that night, after Harry thought that the Pearson's had all gone to bed, he drew his invisible wand. It slid out of the catch with a slight click, and Harry sighed in relief at the feel of it in his hand. It had been slightly unnerving, being injured and unable to do anything about it. How did Muggles stand it, being stuck in bed for simple things like flus and fevers?

He felt around his chest gingerly with a finger, poking here and there. Eventually he found the spot and hissed in pain at the poke, fire flaring in his chest. He led the wand tip to the areas in the dark using his other hand. "Episkey!" he said, and he felt the crack mend itself. He found the other and repeated the process. Harry patted his chest, feeling for any other spots of discomfort and found none. He then pounded it like Tarzan, bypassing the wild yell, and everything still felt in place. He smiled in relief, swung his legs over the bed, and opened the door quietly, intent on finding the bathroom.

"Up and about already?" Kaycee asked quietly from across the living room. She was sitting under on a couch with a book in her hands, legs curled up underneath her. A soft yellow light from the floor lamp next to her flared her hair into a golden halo. She was smiling pleasantly at him, but the question remained in her eyes.

"Yeah, I guess so. Must've been bruised or something, 'cause I'm feeling pretty good." That wasn't a lie either. His ribs had been slightly bruised around the break.

"Hmm," she said. "In any case, I'm glad to see that you're okay. Sit with me?"She patted the couch next to her.

Harry sank into the comfortable couch next to Kaycee and glanced at the thick book she was reading. "What are you reading?"

"Just a book for school." She grimaced and said, "It's really boring." Harry smiled at the expression on her face. It said exactly what she thought about the novel, and 'boring' didn't describe what she really thought of it.

"I know exactly how you feel. My history class should have been stuffed with beds instead of desks."

"Same here," Kaycee said, laughing.

They sat in silence for a while, Kaycee forcing her way through the book and Harry thinking about this new chapter in his life. It was unexpected, sure, but not unwelcome. This was truly the first time in his life that he had never been treated a certain way because of who he was. Here he was not a freak, he wasn't abused, locked in cupboards, told to shut up, nothing. Nor was he exalted as a savior. As much as he hated to admit it, even the Weasley family had been treating him slightly different when the prophecy had become known and it saddened him greatly. He glanced over at Kaycee, who was absorbed in her book. This girl and her family thought he was nothing more than a wayward tourist and treated him with the same kindness they treated their closest friends. Harry loved it and, with his life-debt needing to be fulfilled, figured that he could stick around for a few weeks. He had been planning on staying at the Burrow until Bill and Fleur's wedding anyways.

"What are you thinking, Harry?" He turned to find Kaycee looking at him curiously, book lying on the coffee table next to the couch.

"I was thinking how lucky I was when you found me on that trail. I would have died out there."

Kaycee nodded and asked, "Are you scared of dying?"

It was a question Harry had asked himself many times before. "No, I'm not afraid of death. I am afraid of what I will miss if I die; the things I will never be able to do, the people I would never meet, the life that I was meant to have cut short. Do you believe in destiny, Kaycee?"

"In a way," she replied quietly, "I believe that things were meant to happen to people, that people are born for a specific reason. What I do not believe in is the shackles that people associate with destiny. Nothing is certain. People make their own destinies." Kaycee looked over at Harry to see him staring off into space. "But hey, enough of this glum talk. We got lots of stuff planned tomorrow if you're really feeling fine. You should get to bed."

"Alright," Harry said agreeably. "You're probably right." Harry stood and began to walk back to his room.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

Kaycee stood and embraced Harry warmly. "Thanks for staying up with me."

Harry nodded and smiled at her, "Good night."

"Night, Harry."


	3. Chapter 3

Hedwig flew demurely into the open bedroom window at Grimmauld Place, perching on the sill with a soft clattering of her talons. The room was still dark as the horizon only showed the first signs of light, but it was only a small matter for Hedwig's owl eyes. Two beds were in the room, both containing sleeping figures. Strewn about the floor carelessly were various articles of clothing. It was obvious to any astute observer as to the gender of the inhabitants by the discreet sprinkling of certain garments amid the more standard piles of cloth and cotton. Hedwig stood nobly, surveying the scene with her breast puffed out before fluttering over to the foot of one bed, her talons once again scratching lightly against the wood. She gave a clear hoot to the still-sleeping older girl.

"Hi, Hedwig," Hermione yawned drearily, still waking up. "What's that you have?" The beautiful snowy owl stood silent on the bedpost, looking deeply at Hermione with her amber eyes, the chain of a silver locket held tightly in her beak.

Hermione slowly sat up in her bed and reached forward to stroke Hedwig. The beautiful owl slowly blinked her perfectly round eyes slowly, enjoying the girl's gentle touch. Hermione took the locket from Hedwig and the owl gave a small screech. She fluttered over to a coat rack by the door and settled down to sleep.

Hermione gasped quietly as she realized exactly what she was holding. It was the fake Horcrux that Harry and Dumbledore had retrieved from the cave that fateful night. Opening it quickly, she found the note still inside of it. Hermione opened it and read the note once more, wondering why Hedwig had brought it to her without a message from Harry.

The note slipped from Hermione's hand as it went to cover her mouth. "Oh my God," she whispered. "He's left already." The girl's gaze turned once again to Hedwig, who already had fallen asleep, her head tucked under her wing. That confirmed it. Hedwig had never stayed when delivering post before. Harry had left in search for the Horcruxes without them.

Five minutes later, a knock on the door brought Hermione back to her senses, as she had spent the entire time in deep thought, cross legged on her bed. An eerily threatening voice came from the other bed in the room, "Go away. We're sleeping."

"Girls," Mrs. Weasley's voice came from the doorway, "You need to get up. Professor McGonagall is here, and she has something important to tell you." Ginny sat up quickly and Hermione could almost see the thoughts running through her head. The headmistress? What is she doing here?

A few more minutes found Ginny and Hermione heading down the narrow staircase into the kitchen, followed closely by a zombie-like Ron feeling his way down the steps using his hands as his eyes were still not adjusted to the lighted house. Hermione sighed. She loved the boy dearly, but he was such a mess in the morning. And although she wouldn't admit it to him, he needed a shower right now.

The three teens stepped into the kitchen to find McGonagall sitting at the far end of the table, a cup of tea in her frail-looking hands. She was sipping it slowly, enjoying the taste and warmth of the liquid. Hermione knew that her favorite teacher had been up most of the night. She was very familiar with McGonagall's mannerisms by now, the way she closed her eyes as she touched the mug to her lips.

"Sit down, please," the headmistress said to them. They did, and waited expectantly for the venerable old witch to continue. "Before I start," she said, looking at Hermione, Ron, and Ginny carefully, "has Harry written any letters to you this summer?"

Ginny and Ron shook their heads, obviously wondering what had happened with Harry to constitute a visit from the McGonagall. After a small hesitation, Hermione said, "No, Headmistress." A locket was not a letter, and R.A.B. was not Harry. Hermione suspected that Hedwig brought the locket on her own anyway; she had always been a very smart creature.

"I suspected that he wouldn't," McGonagall sighed. "He has been extremely reclusive ever since the battle."

Perhaps it's because he was alone again. Hermione scowled slightly at how McGonagall seemed to blame Harry for being reclusive while at the Dursleys. She wanted to say something but it didn't even matter anymore. He had left.

Ginny suddenly looked hopeful. "Is he coming here already?"

McGonagall sighed and her shoulders slumped slightly. "No, Miss Weasley, just the opposite. He has left his aunt and uncle and we cannot find him."

Ron's eyes snapped open. "What? He left? That bugger, I knew he shouldn't have stayed there!"

McGonagall's gaze turned to the angry redhead, "Perhaps you were right, Mr. Weasley. Now as for the purpose of my visit- do you know where he went?" Ron's eyes darted around as she stared him down, looking extremely guilty. It took all of Hermione's efforts not to roll her eyes at him.

"No, Professor, we don't know where Harry went. He probably left to finish whatever he and Dumbledore had been doing last year. How did he escape unnoticed anyways?" That was good, she thought to herself, hint blame upon the Order.

"Very good, Miss Granger," McGonagall said, turning away from Ron. "He cast the very same spell that Professor Dumbledore used whenever he left on his private missions. I had asked the Headmaster many times if he would teach it to me, but he always refused to even give me a name. Under its effect, Harry was able to activate a Portkey and disappear, even while we watched him do it.

"Harry made a Portkey?" Ginny asked, surprised.

"No, we think that Professor Dumbledore gave Harry one before his death, in the event that Harry needed to escape from danger. Either way, it does not matter. He is gone, and we need to find him."

An hour later, after McGonagall had left to Hogwarts and Mrs. Weasley had gone to town for errands, the three inhabitants of Grimmauld Place found themselves in the library. Hermione was lying down on the couch with a pillow under her head, and Ron's lap under the pillow. His hand was slowly stroking her hair, causing her spirits to lighten, even in the midst of Harry's disappearance. Ginny sat near the fire that Hermione had started a few minutes before, completely absorbed in her latest book. In Hermione's hands was the heavy silver locket. She twirled the chain around her fingers as she thought.

"Hedwig came this morning," she whispered to Ron. "She brought the locket with her." She opened her eyes and looked up at Ron. He truly was beautiful, his freshly washed face looking down at her, sprinkled with freckles. She loved the way his damp hair fell around his face, still wavy from the shower. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to pull him down and kiss him.

She didn't know why, but ever since the funeral Ron had been so much more grown up. He listened to her, considered what she said, and then spoke. He was in tune with her emotions. Well, in tune as any man could ever be. It was such a far cry from his fling with Lavender that Hermione was taken by surprise, something that didn't happen very often. Hermione had expected that she would have to teach him, be patient with him when he made mistakes or said the wrong thing, but he rarely did. The few times when they had kissed, he wasn't demanding or pushy, he had allowed her to open the doors she wanted and leave others closed. What had changed?

She could see the flames from the grate reflecting off of his eyes for a split second as he bent over and to kiss her. He looked over to the locket and his eyes became sad, "He really has left us, hasn't he?"

"Yes."

"What are we going to do now?"

"The same thing," she whispered to him, stroking his cheek. "Find the Horcruxes." She paused before asking the next question, "Are you scared that you'll never see him again?"

Ron nodded and pressed his cheek into her hand. "Yes."

"We'll see him again."

Ron let out a breath. "I hope so."

"We will," she repeated confidently, and kissed him again.


	4. Chapter 4

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, my lord. I was born to do this."

"Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes, my lord. I shall be successful."

"Very good," the hooded figure said, looking down at the beautiful woman at his feet. Her beauty, however, was not seen by the figure in the traditional sense. He did not see her high, colored cheekbones, her full lips, her beautiful blond hair wrapped in a tight bun, her piercing icy-blue eyes, her tall, slender figure, or the small mole under her eye. All he saw was her fanatic loyalty. He saw the way she looked at him, the only servant that met his eyes. Yes, it was true that he would have tortured any of the others for looking him in the eyes like she did, but for some reason she was different. This woman, this Muggle woman, was the key to his success. Her slight Russian accent contained only dedication and determination for his goal. Sure, she would not live for much longer, but this truly was his greatest servant. She was the only one that he was sure would die for him, who was going to die for him. He reached down with bony fingers and stroked her cheeks, as if in a loving way, and he smiled as she leaned into his touch.

The cold blue eyes snapped to his crimson ones. "I will die for you," she said bluntly.

"I am pleased that you will. You are the key to my success. You shall forever be remembered as my greatest servant." Voldemort took a much more businesslike tone. "Now remember that all of your targets must die. You do not understand failure. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my lord. Only your success makes me happy, my lord. Your reign shall last forever."

"And you shall make it so, my sweet. Now go, and remember the glory you will bring to me." The icy eyes took in his face one more time in gleaming admiration before she rose and walked out of the hall. A gray military beret covered her head and put her face into the shadow beneath the torches that lined both walls as she walked by them. Voldemort leaned back in his throne and grasped the steel skulls on the ends of the arm rests, their eyes containing emeralds that glittered in the dim light. His servant pushed the double doors open and walked confidently out of the throne room, where all his other Death Eaters would have slouched and scuffled. She truly was his greatest servant, his greatest asset for obtaining his goals. The plan was in action, she was in action, and there was no stopping what was now in motion. The government would fall, anarchy would follow, and he, Lord Voldemort, would be there to collect the pieces and crush them in the palm of his hand. He smiled a lip-less smile and stretched in his throne, still grasping the skulls.

Voldemort looked around the empty room, at the gothic marble columns that stood against the wall, the torches that lined the green carpet that lead to his throne, the stonework, well worn from a millennia of soles treading in it, the dirty stained-glass windows that were just below the high, arched ceiling. As he took it all in his smile developed into a chuckle, the chuckle into a laugh. He laughed at the empty church, he laughed at how he, Lord Voldemort, had made it a mockery of what it used to represent. It was fitting, that the most powerful dark lord of all time, the only one that the rest of history would know, started his domination from a church.

"Perhaps it is time for me to pay little Harry a visit. He must not be doing well with his mentor finally dead." It had pleased Voldemort greatly that the symbol of the light was finally dead and rotting in a tomb. The end was near. "And it will be an end that only one of us shall see, old man," Voldemort remarked to the empty room. He closed his eyes and began to calm his breathing, reaching out into the unknown for that familiar thread. The thread that lead to his last remaining nemesis.

*

Flying was the most amazing thing, Kaycee thought. She had her arms spread out to both sides, her golden hair flapping in the wind and gleaming in the sun. Far below green hills rolled under her, small thatched-roof cottages looked like Mini-Wheats that had dropped off of the kitchen table. Flying was amazing. Flapping her wings steadily, she gained speed and shot straight up into the air, towards the burning sun. As her speed lessened, Kaycee leaned back in a loop, falling backwards into the unknown. She moved her arms out in front of her as if she was diving in a pool, and continued towards the ground, a sea of green coming up to meet her. Wind rushed in her ears and she gave a shout of pure joy.

She spread her arms out again, intent on catching the wind under her wings once again, but there was no slowing in her descent, no stopping of her free fall. The ground came up, faster and faster, and soon the sickly green grass dominated her vision. She screamed and covered her face, waiting for the impact. None came, and instead she fell into the grass as if it was an ocean. Everything faded to black, and Kaycee floated in the emptiness, not sure of what to do.

A voice rang out, the high-pitched venomous voice that immediately made Kaycee think of a great serpent. It said, "Hello, Harry. It has been a while, has it not? Are you scared, now that your protector is dead? Are you scared, now that he is rotting in the ground? You should be, for now nothing stands in my way. You will soon be seventeen, and you will have no protection against me. Your mother, your father, and your friends will all have died for nothing, and you will not stand in my way."

Then a whisper rang out from the darkness that she recognized as Harry's voice. It said, "Never. I'll fight you, and I'll win."

The blackness that enveloped Kaycee suddenly changed. It became chaotic, with green and gold swirling together all around her. It pulsed, pushed back and fourth, and swirled in what seemed to be a fierce battle, each color trying to dominate the other. Suddenly, it stopped, and blackness settled in once again. "Enough!" The same evil voice rang out again. Silence, and then, "Someone else is here." Slowly, a face seemed to come out of the darkness, a glittering green skull with a serpent slithering out of its mouth. The skull opened the slits that passed as its eyelids and took in Kaycee with glowing red eyes, "What are you up to, Harry?"

Kaycee awoke instantly, sitting straight up in her bed, sweat flying off of her face at the sudden movement. She was breathing hard, gasping for air after the horrible nightmare. What had that been? It was the worst thing she had ever experienced, and it felt so real! She had felt the coldness seep out of the darkness when the voice had spoken, she had felt goosebumps rise up on her arms when the skull had seen her.

Just a dream, she convinced herself, just a dream. She got out of bed, went to the bathroom and splashed her face with water. It was just a dream.

Much more calm, she went back into her moonlit room and got back under her covers. Soon, she was in a peaceful sleep and no nightmares disturbed her for the rest of the night.

The next morning, Kaycee stepped out of her bedroom to the smells of a delicious breakfast. She walked along the hall and stopped short, just outside the kitchen and watched in surprise as Harry moved around effortlessly. It seemed he hadn't been lying about his ribs. A few pans sat on the stove, slowly simmering as Harry opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bag of cheese. Kaycee could tell that he somehow knew his way around. He stopped to stir a pan, adding the cheese, then began squeezing oranges. Kaycee had never been one for cooking and was amazed at the skill that Harry possessed. What other boy his age could cook? None she knew, that much was for sure. Harry cracked an egg into the other pan single-handedly. After tapping it sharply against the counter top his fingers grasped the crack and pried the egg apart deftly, stacking the shells together in one motion. There was much indeed that Kaycee didn't know about him, this boy who was now in her dreams.

"Do you want any cheese on your omelette?" he asked, not turning away from the stove top.

Busted. "Yeah, thanks," she replied, walking into the kitchen and standing next to him. "Why are you cooking breakfast?"

"Your parents went to town, and said that I could get whatever I liked for breakfast." He turned to Kaycee, "Is that alright?"

Her parents left? That definitely was strange. "Yeah, these are great. I'm just surprised that they trusted you so much." Harry had talked with Kaycee's family on and off most of the day before. They questioned him lightly about where he had lived, where he had gone to school, and where he was planning on traveling. The rest of the day Harry talked mostly with Kaycee, as she stayed in the room to keep him company. Matt, of course, had bounded in from time to time withcandy for Harry to try or a question about England. They had talked about him over dinner, Harry not being allowed out of bed on her father's orders, and her parents had been very impressed with Harry and the level of maturity he showed. Her mothers had gushed over how "sweet and polite" Harry had been to everyone.

"I don't think they trusted me all that much," Harry said, sticking his thumb over his back. Kaycee turned to find Matt sitting on the far side of the kitchen table, an army hat on his head and binoculars in his hands.

Matt narrowed his eyes when Kaycee looked over. "Extra cheese in mine," he said in a threatening voice.

Harry started chuckling silently. "See?"

Kaycee and Matt gave Harry a detailed tour of the house after breakfast. The cabin was a large one with four bedrooms, and sunny everywhere. It seemed that glass windows took as much of the wall as possible, bathing the cabin in a soft and warm sunlight. The guest bedroom, currently Harry's, was on the ground floor near the kitchen and front door. Also on the first floor was a large sun room with glass covering three of its four walls, a family room with a large fireplace, and Kaycee and Matt's two bedrooms. Upstairs was the master bedroom, accessible from a staircase that began next to the fireplace.

Afterwards the three went outside where a large lake sat closer than a stone's throw from the back porch. A large, smooth granite rock jutted out into the water where a private dock with a ski boat sat. The walkway to the dock rested just before the granite submerged underwater. Slightly further out, and disconnected from the shore was a swim dock with a ladder on the far side leading into the water.

"Wow," Harry exclaimed, "This place is great!" A rich green forest surrounded the lake, cabin, and the surrounding mountains in all directions. Kaycee thought that it was absolutely beautiful, the way that the pines grew tall, each trying to absorb more sunlight than the other. She loved how underneath, in the patches of sun and shade, ferns grew, covering the rich ground soil with a sea of green. She loved all of the meadows with creek after creek running though them in a race to reach the lake. And most of all, she loved hiking along the creeks to the artesian wells at the mountaintops, watching them come together to form rushing streams.

"So, Harry," Matt began confidently, "Did your school have a lake like this in its backyard?"

"No," Harry answered truthfully. "Ours was actually a bit smaller. We had a forest on one side of the school, though. I think it might be bigger than this one. It's probably older too." He paused for a second, and then added, "Oh, and our lake had a giant squid in it."

Kaycee watched in suppressed humor as Matt stared at Harry, who also looked as if he was about to burst at any moment. Finally, Matt said, "Very funny, Harry. Everyone knows that giant squids only live in the ocean!"

"Hey Matt, how would you like some chocolate?" Kaycee asked, interrupting Harry's possible rebuttal. "You can go up into the house and eat as many as you want, as long as mom and dad don't find out. That sound cool?"

"Yeah!" Matt exclaimed. "That's loads better than talking to crazy English people about monsters." He ran off towards the back porch, distinctly muttering, "He's gonna start telling me about Loch Ness if I don't keep him in line."

Harry chuckled at Matt's antics. "Is he always like that?" he asked.

"No, just when my friends are around. He wants to act cool in front of them, you know? It doesn't really bother me." Kaycee led Harry onto the dock and slipped off her sandals. "Come feel the water."

Harry joined her in sitting on the dock and putting his toes in the lake. "I think Matt's great. I didn't have any brothers or sisters growing up, and I've always wondered what it would be like."

"Annoying," Kaycee said with a smile, "But I wouldn't trade him for anything."

The pair talked on about insignificant things for a few minutes, Kaycee occasionally making a joke, only to have Harry smile at it. She had pegged him as the serious type after the first few minutes she had talked to him, and preferred it that way. Maturity was something that she valued greatly both in herself and in her friends.

Kaycee turned away from Harry and leaned back on the dock, lying prone with her toes still in the lake, making ripples in the otherwise perfectly glassy water. "I had a dream last night that I was flying. It was sunny and the clouds were those big puffy ones that looked like cotton balls. There were fields below me and they were all green, as far as you could see." She turned her head and looked at Harry, to find him looking back with a curious expression on his face. Did he have the same dream? "Wouldn't you like to fly?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, "I think that I would like flying very much." He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then laid down next to her.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Kaycee asked, looking into the sky.

"Yeah," came Harry's voice from beside her. "It is."

A unknown amount of time later, a small "Ahem," came from behind them. Both Harry and Kaycee looked back without sitting up, taking in the seemingly giant figure of Matt upside down. He had once again donned his army hat, binoculars, and had added a pair of overly large wire framed sunglasses to complete the army general look. "You two may want to know some important intel I've gathered. Mom and dad are back." Kaycee rolled her eyes as Matt put a plastic toothpick in his mouth and turned on his heels, leading them back towards the house.

Harry and Kaycee walked back into the cabin to find her parents sitting in the kitchen, looking over x-ray sheets. "Glad to see you're finally awake, Kay," Jaclyn said in good humor. "We wanted to talk to you two about these x-rays for a bit." Harry and Kaycee sat down, looking across the table at Jaclyn and Stephen.

"First of all," Stephen began, "Harry, are you absolutely sure that your ribs are healed? The x-rays showed two pretty nasty cracks."

"Can I see them?" Harry asked, looking at the dark x-ray sheets. Stephen handed them over and pointed to the two jagged lines along two ribs on the left side. "So those two ribs would be," he stopped to think for a second, "Right here?" He pointed to a spot on his chest.

At Stephen's nod, Harry took his hand and hit that part of his chest as if trying to cough, "I'm prefectly fine. No pain at all." Kaycee narrowed her eyes at Harry. How was that even possible? Only yesterday it pained him to sit up in bed. How was he able to walk, laugh, and put stress on his once injured bones? Something was strange, and Kaycee knew that was exactly what her parents wanted to find out.

After a few seconds, Jaclyn sighed and said, "Well Harry, I'm very amazed. Maybe Dr. Tompkin's age is finally catching up with him." Stephen just shrugged and continued looking at the x-rays. "You're old enough to take care of yourself, Harry, and we aren't your parents anyways. We only have one more question. Do you like boating?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Ah, here it is, Mr. Black. Sorry for such a wait, but artifacts such as this take time to be removed from their displays."

"It is understandable," a dark haired man said from his chair at a small two person table.

The man carrying the object under a black cloth sat down opposite him, under the only light in the otherwise bare room. At the very top of one of the walls was a small mirror. Both of the men knew that someone sat behind it, watching intently. "The door will be locked now." He gave a nod to the mirror and the unmistakable clunk of a heavy deadbolt falling into place was heard from the door behind Mr. Black. The man set the object on the table and removed the cotton cloth. A double handled golden cup encrusted with strange yellow diamonds sat on the table. It was undoubtedly old, but seemed to shine as if it had just been forged. One of the yellow diamonds sparkled as if it had a life of its own.

Black's eyes glinted when the light shot off of the diamond. This was what he had been looking for. He took a breath and leaned forward ready to grasp it, before regaining his posture and tearing his gaze away. The museum prospector was looking at him intently. He put on a fake smile. "It is indeed the one that I've been looking for. May I?" He gestured toward the cup.

"Certainly Mr. Black. I should warn you, however, that some believe the cup to be cursed. Magical fancy, I know, but let me tell you a story. A group of ten men went into the tomb, where they found this." He gestured to the cup. "One week later, and not a day longer, they all turned up dead."

"No!" said Black in a rather bored tone.

"Oh yes. I was the one who accepted the cup from them. They were our best group of treasure hunters. Almost half the relics in this museum were uncovered from their tombs by those men. Since that day no one has ever touched it. I always handle it with gloves or cloth." The curator looked at the cup speculatively. "This relic is quite strange, being unique compared to all other Egyptian artifacts. It is much more gothic in its design. I have pondered over it many times. Now, what is your interest in it, Mr. Black. Your willingness to pay so much for it has piqued my curiosity. Surely you don't know anything about it?"

"I actually know a bit about this," Black said, reaching for the cup barehanded. "First," he said tossing the jeweled goblet hand to hand carelessly. "It was originally owned by a great woman by the name of Helga Hufflepuff. Have you heard of her?" The curator shook his head, fearfully eying the cup as it was juggled back and forth. "No, most people haven't." Black seemed to eye the aging curator with something that bordered anger. "Hufflepuff was quite powerful in her day, and this cup was passed down through her family until recently. In fact, this cup has been missing from her decedents for only fifty years." The older man's expression of surprise and disbelief was priceless, his jaw slightly open and his eyes glazed over. Black chucked a bit.

"But," the curator stammered, "This was found in a sealed tomb! It hadn't been opened for thousands of years! You lie, Mr. Black!" The balding man seemed to slowly be turning turning a deep shade of red. "If there is one thing I cannot stand for it is someone who twists history. Money no longer matters. If I may have the cup back." The curator held out his hand, obviously meaning his last statement as a threat.

Black chuckled darkly. "It certainly does sound like a lie, but I assure you it isn't. Now, I am done talking with you. There is work to do and it is pointless to talk, for you won't remember me anyways. Stupefy!" The old curator fell limply to the floor. Black immediately cast an obscuring charm at the small glass window.

Almost instantly the light inside the room shut off, throwing Black into absolute darkness. He heard the heavy deadbolt begin to to slide open. "Colloportus!" the door made an odd squelching sound and stayed close, the banging of fists coming from the other side. "Much better," Black said to himself. "Acerbus visum!" The pitch black room became a shimmery blue color and Black could once again see with ease. He focused all of his attention on the cup in his hand, ignoring the futile banging from the heavy metal door. He holstered his wand and slowly rotated the cup, examining every angle and inch of it. Slowly it spun in his hands, a strange dull blue color, the diamonds flat and uninteresting in the darkness. Black ran a finger around the rim of the cup, and then inside, feeling for any abnormalities in the aura, anywhere that Voldemort had not focused enough on. The inside was clean. He checked the bottom, which had also been cast correctly. He sat the cup on the table and slowly stroked his chin, wondering how best to rid the relic of its evil.

An idea struck him suddenly. He grabbed the cup roughly and ran a finger over a yellow diamond, focusing on the crack between where diamond was set and the metal of the cup. There it was, a flaw in the design of the horcrux. Black smiled to himself, showing slightly yellow teeth. Voldemort had not focused well enough on the metal covered by the diamonds and a crack in the magic, ever so slight, had formed over the years. That was his only way in. He flung the cup to the other side of the room. It wouldn't break of course. A horcrux wouldn't know if it was dropped off of the tallest Muggle building in London, let alone being tossed in a corner.

Black flipped the metal table on its side and levitated it over to the opposite corner. As an afterthought, he also pulled the museum curator behind his shelter. Pointlessly killing people went against everything Black was trying to accomplish, even if he was just a Muggle.

He cast Protego on himself, the curator, and the metal table for protection. Horcruxes were immune to physical attack, but extremely vulnerable to Avada Kedavra. After all, the spell was designed to destroy souls. Black smirked, there were benefits to being able to cast such dark magic that most wizards could not comprehend.

Leveling his wand on the metal table and drawing up the feelings of hate he felt towards Voldemort, Black focused intently on the weak areas of the Horcrux. Taking careful aim he said the words, "Avada Kedavra!" The spell streaked green across the darkness and slammed into the cup. Instantly there was an explosion that rocked the room, sending fire and debris around the enclosed space. The triple Protegos, did what they were designed to do, but it didn't stop Black from covering his eyes from the intense heat and light.

After the flash of fire passed he vanished the smoke and extinguished the remaining flames. The cup sat in the corner, spinning from the force of the Killing Curse. Black stopped it with his foot and picked it up. He instantly knew that it was a Horcrux no longer, and wasted no time in repairing the room. After it looked as it had before the explosion, he forced the light to switch back on and set the curator in his seat. "Ennervate!"

The old man awoke immediately and looked in fear at Black. "What do you want? Get away from me!"

"Nothing at all, dear man. I just want you to forget you ever saw me. Obliviate!" The curator's eyes glassed over. Black straightened his posture and smoothed out his hair. "No, I'm sorry, but this isn't quite the piece I'm looking for. It would probably be best to put it back straightaway and not mention our meeting to anyone."

The old man seemed to absorb Black's words slowly. After a few seconds he nodded. "Yes, yes of course, Mr. Black. If there is one thing I understand, it is discretion."

"Very good," Black said, nodding once. "Finite Incantatem," he whispered and unstuck the door. Before it could open, he disapparated with a sharp crack!

*

"Harry, do you believe in fate?"

Harry looked up from his ice cream, obviously taken aback by the question. Harry, Kaycee, and her parents had taken the boat into town on the weekend after Harry had gotten better. Matt had stayed at home because it was his birthday in a few days and presents needed to be purchased. Harry and Kaycee had been allowed to go off on their own, and she had dragged him to an ice cream parlor first thing. Now, they sat on a pair of swings in the park, surrounded by miles of grass and tall pine trees. "That's a strange question," he replied. "Why do you ask?"

"I dunno," Kaycee replied thoughtfully. She definitely wasn't going to tell him about her premonitions. Long ago, they had made her conclude that fate existed in some form. "I just don't like the idea of having an aimless life. I like to know that I still have something to accomplish."

Harry seemed to relax. He definitely was hiding something, but that wasn't new. Harry hid many things and acted so strangely sometimes. He had no money on him whatsoever, but made no comment about it. Kaycee's mother had insisted she wash Harry's clothes when they had arrived at the cabin. She found nothing in his pockets as she searched them before throwing the jeans into the washing machine besides a miniature chest. It had real brass bindings and wouldn't open. It seemed that the minuscule lock was also real. Everyone wondered why Harry had such a strange object, but they put the chest back and said nothing to him about it. Harry never mentioned it at all, and none of the Pearsons had seen it since. Kaycee brought herself back to the present and listened to Harry's reply.

"I believe in it too, but I'm the opposite of you. I don't like the idea that I'm trapped to a specific course in life." Harry polished off his ice cream and began working on the cone, looking pitifully depressed.

Kaycee let out a laugh. "If you don't like fate, why do you believe in it?"

Harry shrugged. "There's just some things in life that you're forced to believe, y'know?"

Wasn't that dramatic? "Ooh! Are you going to pull out a crystal ball on me?" Harry slowly smiled. It was about time that he did. She definitely needed to cheer him up.

"I might, but I probably wouldn't be any good at it. I'll let you try instead."

Kaycee smiled weakly but said nothing. She hoped that he didn't notice anything. They both finished their ice creams, swinging gently and enjoying the sun. After a short while Kaycee said, "Come on. We have to go pick out a present for Matt."

The park was centrally located in the small town, and shops lined three out of four sides. The last side faced the lake, but the grass continued right into the lake, as if water and earth were engaged in a battle for territory. The two walked through the park for a while, heading in the opposite direction of the ice cream store before they emerged at a two lane road. Kaycee checked her purse and frowned, "We have to stop at an ATM before any stores."

Kaylee led Harry across the street and into a grocery store named Phil's Diggins, to the west of the park. The building was painted green, and the inside was well kept with waxed black and white checkered flooring and peaceful elevator music. A girl of seventeen or eighteen stood nearby in a green apron and greeted them, "Hi, welcome to Phil's!" Kaycee couldn't help but notice how the girl looked specifically at Harry. "Is there anything I can help you with?" She batted her eyelashes at him and smiled.

Kaycee narrowed her eyes and turned to Harry to see his reaction. He was looking at a small stand of roses in the center of the floor.

"Huh?" he said distractedly. He turned to see the girl looking at him, "Come again?"

"I just asked if there was anything I can help you with," the girl said, not discouraged in the least.

Perhaps it was time to butt in. "Yeah, I need to use the ATM."

The girl turned and looked at Kaycee, who was only a few feet closer to the door than Harry was, "Oh I'm sorry! I didn't see you there!"

Sure you didn't. "That's fine." Kaycee was about to say something else, but walked over to the ATM near the register instead. She didn't want to stay in Phil's Diggins one moment longer than she needed to. Behind her, she heard the greeter address Harry again.

"My name's Angela."

"Harry."

"I like that name. It's very cute with that accent." Kaycee bristled, but just swiped her card instead. Angela wasn't wasting any time with Harry at all. How could a girl be that direct and expect anything from a guy like Harry? "Where are you from? England?"

"Uh, yeah."

"What's your last name, Harry?" Kaycee stopped punching in her pin, just realizing that Harry had never told her his last name.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Just curious." Kaycee could mentally see Angela batting her eyelashes. Her eyes narrowed slightly and she hit the "OK" button harder than was strictly needed. Her cash popped out.

"Just Harry," came his reply, "Excuse me."

Go Harry! Kaycee stepped away from the machine and turned around. Harry was walking towards her as an obviously angry Angela glared at his back. Suddenly an idea struck Kaycee. "Here you go Harry. Go ahead and get some money out. We don't go into town that often, so its probably best to be prepared." The horrified look on his face was all the confirmation she needed, and she smiled sweetly at him. Hopefully she would get some answers.

*

Ginny Weasley sat at the kitchen table in Grimmauld Place, staring sadly at the rain as it pattered against the thin windows, stirring a steaming cup of tea absently. Harry had vanished one week ago this morning, and Ginny found that she wasn't able to sleep well. Ever since the ride home on the Hogwarts Express she hadn't talked to Harry at all. Their friendship was strained at best, and she felt awkward around him ever since he had cut it off. She thought she had understood the reasons he had for breaking up with her, but now she realized that she had been wrong. Ginny thought she had really known Harry, perhaps even better than Ron and Hermione, but she hadn't. Not even Harry knew himself completely. Now she realized that what she had said to him must have been a knife to his heart. Someone he trusted expected him to kill Voldemort as if it was his job. Prophecy or not, it was his choice.

The rain ran down the grubby windows like tears and Ginny was forced to look away, lest she cry herself. Why had she said that to him? Why had she reminded him of his destiny, that it was his responsibility to kill Voldemort? Ginny sighed sadly and tucked her head in her arms.

"Ginny, are you alright?" Hermione's voice carried from the stairs. Ginny heard the soft steps of bare feet and the scrape of a chair across from her. She looked up to find Hermione looking at her concernedly, her hair a mess. Just over the older girl's shoulder was the crying window.

"Not really."

"I know. Me neither." For a few seconds, it was only the rain that spoke. "He'll come back."

Ginny looked at the window again, hating it for some reason. She was about to stand up and pull the curtains over it, but decided it wasn't worth the effort. "Why did he leave?"

Hermione didn't answer for a second and absently conjured two more mugs of tea. "I don't know Ginny. He wants to finish it." She took a mug for herself.

"Do you know what I said when he broke up with me? I told him that he wouldn't be happy unless he was hunting Voldemort. I didn't know who he was. He was a hero to me, just like he was to everyone else. I never talked to him after that, and now he's gone."

Hermione looked as if she was about to cry. "Oh Ginny, don't say that. He's still grieving for Dumbledore. He will be back. He just has to deal with his sadness, and then we can continue from there."

"He won't be the same. Harry's out there by himself. You know what happens when he's alone. He needs to be here, or we need to be there, with him."

Hermione nodded. "I know. I think he knows that too. That's why he'll be back soon." Hermione was stopped short by another, heavier pair of footsteps coming down the stairway. Ron appeared a second later, clad in his long red hair and the pink bunny slippers Hermione had gotten for him at the beginning of summer. After she had given them to him, Hermione had told Ginny that she had conveniently forgotten to tell Ron that she meant them as a joke and that he didn't have to wear them.

He let out a yawn. "Why are you two up so early?"

"Harry," came Ginny's reply.

"What about him? Has something happened?" Ron picked up his pace and sat down into the chair nearest the staircase.

"It's been a week," said Hermione, "And we haven't heard a single thing about him."

Ginny stood up suddenly and threw her hands in the air. "Aren't we going to look for him? That's what we should be doing! How can we all just sit here calmly and expect the adults to do everything? They have no clue where he went!"

"And neither do we, Ginny. All we can do is wait." Ginny thought she saw something exchanged between Hermione and Ron, as if that wasn't all they could do. Once again, she was excluded from taking any action. First, her parents and the Order had shut her out from any information. Next, Harry had broken up with her to protect her. And now, she couldn't even help him from Grimmauld place like Ron and Hermione seemed to be doing.

"What have you two been doing in the library lately?" Neither Ron nor Hermione said anything, both of their faces blank.

The roar of thunder flowed through the small kitchen. Ron pointed out the weeping window and said, "It's raining."

The weather! He was talking about the weather and pointing at that bloody window! Ginny strode over to the window and violently pulled the drapes closed.

Just as she did, quick, sharp taps came from the other side of the heavy fabric covering the window. Hermione stood up and pulled the drapes back. A small, completely soaked owl was perched outside of the window, looking like death itself. She opened the window and the owl swooped in quickly, depositing a copy of the Morning Prophet. After taking a Knut from Hermione it hopped through the open window and took flight again.

Hermione's eyes widened as soon as she picked up the paper. "Look at this!"

Harry Potter Missing, Presumed Dead?

By Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and recently believed Chosen-One went missing from his Little Whinging home six days ago, this reporter has learned from trusted informants inside the ministry. He has not yet been sighted, and the ministry is already ceasing searches. Have they found something which they do not want to report? With almost unchallenged free reign, it would not be surprising that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has already found and disposed of Potter, who left by his own free will. Was the prophecy just a rumor, or has it been fulfilled in such a way to doom the entire wizarding world? It is a question that all must ask of themselves.

-Continued, Potter A-4

"An absolute crock," Ron said after finishing. "Skeeter doesn't know anything. Just trying to cause more trouble."

"But is the Ministry really stopping the searches?" Ginny looked towards her brother and best friend, only to see worry in their eyes. "How could they?"

"You heard what McGonagall said, Ginny. There's no way to find out where he went. Even if they could find out where the Portkey took him, I'm sure he's long gone by now. Harry knows what he's doing. Dumbledore trained him for the better part of a year." Ginny turned to Hermione and knew she was right. The ministry would just be wasting manpower trying to find Harry.

Ron also seemed to brighten up also. "Besides, the Order is probably still looking for him."

"Yeah, they probably are," Hermione said reassuringly. Ginny said nothing.

Just then the fireplace flared to life and their father's head popped in. "Ahh, there you all are. Everything alright?" The three nodded. "Good then. If you've read the paper, don't listen to what it says."

"It's an absolute crock," Ron said confidently.

Arthur's head tilted forward and back. "Yes, it is. The ministry stopped because the Order assumed full responsibility for the search. We aren't worried, and are very busy looking. Okay, now I've got to go, so behave yourselves!" Arthur's head turned to the side as if listening to someone. "Your mother says 'hi,' and not to worry about anything. We'll be home for dinner." With that Arthur's head dissapreared from the grate, leaving it cold and empty once again.

"See? Everything's going to be fine." Hermione took a sip of her tea.

Ginny finally nodded, but still creased her eyebrow in worry.

After breakfast the three went into the library, Ginny to waste time, and Ron and Hermione to do something else. Ginny watched as Ron and Hermione pulled off tome after tome on the most unusual subjects. Wizarding family histories and genealogies, dark arts encyclopedias, tomes on famous wizards, tomes on obscure wizards, and more came off the shelves one after the other. Ginny was fed up.

"Have you two found him yet?"

They both turned to her in shock. Ron stammered out, "Who are you talking about?"

Time to bluff. "Come on, do you really think that Harry didn't tell me? I was his girlfriend, after all."

"Who are you talking about, Ginny?" said Hermione tiredly. The older girl rubbed her eyes and looked at Ginny, not falling for anything.

Time to use the trump card. "The person on the note inside that locket. Who else would I be talking about?" Ginny hoped her face was straight. She had barely seen the note and locket on that fateful morning one week ago, but she knew it was important.

Ron's face registered shock, but Hermione was unfazed. "What would that person's name be?"

How to answer that? Ginny struggled for a few seconds, but finally threw her hands up in the air. "Look, I forgot his name. Why don't you just let me help?" She felt tears starting to come. "Don't do this to me! I hate being helpless. I hate doing nothing! You understand what that's like."

The shock on Ron's face died and was replaced by a look of annoyance. "No, Ginny. You're too young."

That did it. Ginny let out a scream of frustration and pulled out her wand like lightning. Leveling it at Ron she cast her favorite curse before he even had time to move. She watched in satisfaction as he realized what was happening, but was disappointed when he quickly dodged out of the way. The powerful curse continued past him and smashed into the top corner of the bookcase. Instead of destroying a section or ripping a few books apart the spell seemed to be soaked into area with a weird sounding warble! A deep blue light rippled about the area for a few seconds before fading away. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny looked at each other curiously, their anger forgotten.

Hermione was the first to get up and examine the obscure corner of the room where Ginny's curse had struck. She slowly looked over the titles with a strange expression on her face. "I've never read any of these books before."

Ron followed her over. "That doesn't matter so much. I don't think they were even here a second ago."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "That's the point, Ron. I've read every book on these shelves. They must have had a repelling or obscuring charm on them. Someone didn't want anyone to read these." Hermione began browsing the titles, running a finger slowly over each one. "These are either very old or personal journals. See the bindings on some? They aren't professionally done."

Some of the books were indeed journals, mostly of various Black family members. Ginny rose out of her seat and also began examining the new shelves. Beside her, Hermione pulled off as many titles as she could and set them on the coffee table.

Ron turned slowly and awkwardly towards her, his expression one of fear. "Er, Ginny? Maybe you should leave."

Ginny said nothing, but instead punched him in the stomach and took a book from the shelf. She spun on her heel towards the nearest chair, slapping Ron in the face with her hair. "You should know better than to ask me that, Ronald." She put on the most peaceful face she could muster, just to bug him.

Ron was about to respond when Hermione cut him off, "You two stop arguing and come look at this! I think I found out who R.A.B. is."

Ron walked over quickly with a worried look on his face, followed closely by Ginny. He bent down to his girlfriend's ear and whispered, "Don't bring Ginny into this. Harry didn't tell her for a reason."

Ginny rolled her eyes as she stood over the pair, "I can hear you, Ron. Now, tell me who R.A.B. is."

"Hermione... Don't do it," Ron warned.

"Ron, if we don't tell her we'll be doing the same thing Harry is doing to us. What if she misunderstood something and ran off like we did two years ago? Wouldn't you want to be included if Harry, Ginny, and I knew about the horcruxes and you didn't?"

Ginny watched as Ron paled at the mention of Horcruxes. "What's a Horcrux?"

Hermione set the book she was holding down on the coffee table, holding a page open with her thumb. "Sit down over here, both of you, and I'll explain everything at once." They both did, Ginny with grim excitement and Ron with dread. Hermione continued once they sat next to her looking at the old diary on the table, "Okay, good. Ginny, Horcruxes are how Voldemort stays alive even if his body is destroyed. They contain parts of his soul. There are probably seven of them, with two that we know are destroyed. Remember the ring that the Headmaster wore around school all last year? That was Marvolo Gaunt's ring. You see, Voldemort picked objects to use as Horcruxes that were very significant to him. The ones that are destroyed already are Riddle's diary and Gaunt's ring, and possibly a locket owned by Slytherin. The locket is what Harry and Dumbledore were after the night of the attack. Instead of finding it, they found this." Hermione pulled out the locket that she had kept since Hedwig had delivered it one week ago, opened it, and handed Ginny the note. "We've been trying to figure out who R.A.B is since Harry read the note. I think we've finally found out who it is. Look at this." She pointed to the open diary on the table, and Ginny leaned forward to read it.

25 January 1978

Dearest Amanda,

I've found it. After three years of this hell, I've finally found it, and with it my way out. I'll never bow to him ever again. Don't worry, this time I won't fail. After all, I have no one else to lose, do I?

-Regulus Black

"Its Sirius' brother!" Ron exclaimed. "Remember how Harry told us about him?" Ron paused for a second, rubbing his chin. "Didn't Harry say he was dead too?"

"Yeah he did," Hermione replied. "If Regulus took the locket, where would he have hidden it?"

"It could be here," Ginny mumbled, thinking aloud. "A piece of Him could be right next to us, and we'd never know it."

There was silence in the room. Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat and Ron stood up completely, as if the real locket was under his cushion. "We're going to find it," Ginny said.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, and the place to start is right here, in the house."

The three looked at each other for a long moment before Ron lit the fire, using a jabbing motion. With the crackling of flames filling the silence, he said, "Let's get started then."

*

Harry moved toward the ATM machine as if it was his death. How did he always get himself into these situations? What would she do when he had to tell her that he had no money, no identification at all? She would finally become suspicious. He had done pretty well so far, acting like a muggle would, but now there was no way out. He took another step and involentarily glanced back at Kaycee. Her eyes were narrowed and she had a strange smile on her face. Another step. Should he just leave now, dissaparate and continue on his search? Maybe. Why had he even stayed this long? One more step. It was the life debt, he reminded himself, nothing more than that.

"Who's funeral are you at, sonny?" Harry froze in front of the ATM and subtley looked around. The voice seemed to come out of nowhere.

"Yeah, I'm talking to you. How about you try looking forward?" Harry looked towards the ATM in front of him and his mouth dropped open. The gnarled old face of a warlock was displayed on the screen of the ATM, complete with long white hair and a bulbous, pockmarked nose. His eyes were the most unusual, however, with pearly pink color surrounding his black pupils. The head slowly bobbed up and down, and he looked extremely impatient. The man glanced to both sides of Harry before adressing him again. "Well? Hurry up! Why don't you just yell to all of the Muggles that you're a wizard? Pull that damnable card out of your pocket!"

Harry also glanced around before leaning in and whispering. "But I don't have a card."

The warlock rolled his eyes. "Course you do, dummy, I put it there! Now take it out and put it right there." The face looked to the bottom left of the screen and Harry noticed the slot for a card just beyond. Without wasting any more time Harry plunged his hand into his pocket, where it found a thin piece of plastic. He put it in. "Very good. That wasn't too bad. Now keep up your little charade and press a few buttons." Harry did. "You aren't completely stupid, I suppose." The warlock closed his eyes and bowed his head as if in deep thought. When he looked up again and spoke, his voice took on a perfect English accent. "Now, how can Gringotts help you today, Mr. Potter?"

Harry's mouth dropped open again, and the old warlock laughed at him wheezily, "Why are you so surprised Mr. Potter? How would we give you money if we don't know which account to take it from?"

"How do you know who I am? No one can find out where I'm staying!"

The warlock was unfazed. "Press a few buttons, Mr. Potter." Harry grudgingly did. "No one knows where you are."

"You do," Harry retorted.

"I'm an automation, Mr. Potter. It will be weeks before a goblin actually goes over this transaction. Gringotts keeps secrets very well, especially for one of our most valued partners." The warlock gave him a significant look, "After the liquidation of the Black family assets, you are one of our largest depositors. Did you know that?"

"No, and I don't care. Just give me some money."

"Well, what's the hurry? I always like a nice chat. Did you know that out of this entire little town, there are two people of magic? They must only live here seasonally too."

"That must be boring," Harry said. He felt kinda bad for being so blunt with the warlock. "It must be pretty lonely for you here."

The warlock nodded sadly. "Ironic thing is, they don't even know about magic. So they may as well be muggles for all the conversation they can give me."

A voice came from behind Harry. "Come on," Kaycee said to him, "We gotta go shopping."

"Almost done," Harry said over his shoulder. He hit the green button twice, egging the warlock on.

The warlock seemed to hold his tongue and didn't make try more small talk. "Very well, Mr. Potter. This withdrawl will be in American currency, I assume. How much would you like?"

Harry wasn't sure how much to ask for. He had always used wizarding money, and his knowledge on the values of muggle money was had been lost to him. His aunt and uncle made sure he never saw more than it took for him to buy their groceries. As for foreign money, he had even less of an idea. "A thousand dollars, please."

"Are you sure you want that much?" Harry said nothing. "That's not even pocket change for you, but be sure not to go flashing it around. Please hit the OK button to complete your transaction and have a nice day." The warlock gave him a yellow-toothed smile.

Harry did and his money came out of a slot below the screen in a neatly banded package of twenties. He was pretty sure that wasn't how the machine was actually supposed to work, but stuffed the money into his pocket quickly so Kaycee didn't see how much he took out.

"Got everything you need?" Kaycee asked in a strangely suspicious manner.

"Yeah," Harry said, smiling. "Where do you want to go first?" Harry headed out of the store, inclining his head cooly at Angela before going through the doors. He never noticed the completely baffled, and somewhat angry, expression on Kaycee's face.


	6. Chapter 6

Inside the living room of a small cottage, nestled into sheer seaside cliffs on the edge of Ireland was a boy of seventeen, squatting near a hotly roaring fire. He held his palms close to the orange flames, absorbing as much heat as he could stand. Trying to pass the time without dark thoughts drifting through his mind was a hard task. He felt the strange prickling feeling flow through his bones as he shivered despite the fire next to him. Noticing that his front was too hot, the boy turned around and sat cross-legged to warm his back. Pulling his cloak tighter, he surveyed the familiar room. A tarnished coffee table sat upon a dusty, woven rug. Behind that was a small couch inside of a dull red slip cover and a few windows stood behind that with vases on the sills. Tan and blue striped wallpaper covered the walls, contrasting a white plaster ceiling and hardwood flooring. The only thing in the room that looked clean was the hardwood floor, which had been polished to give off an almost mirror-like shine. Jacob looked down at his reflection in the floor and smiled at how orange light danced on both sides of him. That coupled with his large hood made him look like a burning Dementor, a pleasant thought.

Jacob's face was beginning to feel the effects of the cold, so he turned again to face the fire. How much longer would his father take? Jacob was used to his father's long absences, so no fears invaded his thoughts, just impatience and a desire to hear the outcome of his trip.

Jacob could not remember a time when his father, Regulus Black, had not been searching for Voldemort's horcruxes. It had taken him more than Jacob's seventeen years of age just to find the cup, and it would mark a new chapter in their life if it was destroyed. He pulled out his wand and looked at it pensively, watching the orange of flames reflect off its glossy finish. What would happen to him when his father succeeded? He knew that they would return to England to find the other Horcruxes, if any more existed, but anything beyond that was a mystery to them both.

A sharp crack and flash of light interrupted the crackling of the flames and a voice came from behind Jacob. "It's cold in here. Didn't you put up the Warming Charms like I asked you?"

"No," Jacob replied, standing slowly and turning around. There, in front of the coffee table a few feet away stood Regulus Black, his father. "I like a fire much better in the cold, so I made that instead."

His father leaned unnecessarily to one side and looked at the roaring flames. "I can see that," he said, smiling. "How've you been the past few days?"

Jacob crossed his arms, "I don't think that my health should be the first thing we talk about." His father's smile widened just a bit. "You found it, didn't you?"

"Now it's just a pretty cup sitting in a museum." He was smiling fully. Jacob's eyes widened and he crossed the few steps to his father and embraced him.

"You did it," Jacob said.

His father pulled away and held Jacob by the shoulders, "No, we did it. I would have run and hidden in a cave if I didn't have you."

Jacob imagined his father dancing around a small fire inside of a cave filled with hieroglyphics. "You hermit."

Black guffawed loudly, a sound that was strange to Jacob's ears. He had heard it before, but on very rare occasions. The destruction of the Horcrux had taken a weight off of his father's shoulders. "Maybe we both are," he said, "But that won't be the case for much longer." Black smacked his lips and coughed a bit. "Let's go to the kitchen. I need something to drink. Tea, I think."

After preparing the tea and setting a mug near his father, Jacob sat down at the opposite end of the kitchen table. "Did it go smoothly?"

"Very," his father replied after taking a sip of his tea. His eyes widened and he took another sip. "This is good."

Jacob rolled his eyes, "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Of course," Black replied, and he recounted the tale of how he had gotten the horcrux within reach and subsequently destroyed it. He was sure to include great detail of the explosion and its impressive aftermath.

"Was the Muggle hurt?"

"Of course not, I put him behind the table with me."

"That's good." Jacob said with an internal sigh. He had always been worried that his father's upbringing and slight aversion to Muggles would lead to something disastrous. It would always be something that he struggled with, Jacob knew. "So, what are we going to do now?"

His father smiled at him as he twisted his empty mug in his hands. "I think we'll pay a visit to my old family home. I have someone holding onto a very important object there."

*

"Weasley, tell me what is the expected short term reaction, following the announcement. Will there be riots and attacks on wizards and witches throughout England? What is the reaction on your side of things going to be like?" Rufus Scrimgeour surveyed his luxurious office, "Percy, you are taking the notes aren't you?"

"Yes Minister," Percy replied, his round glasses on the tip of his nose as he continued writing on a long piece of parchment. Scrimgeour nodded his approval and motioned for Arthur Weasley to continue.

"Minister, the announcement will change the history of both our worlds. Some upheaval is expected, especially in poorer areas of the world. Fundamentalists and extremists who live there may use this as a reason for rebellion and war. The developed countries that have been notified of the announcement are expecting protests and general fear against change, but they should be fairly mild. Once the world sees how few wizards actually exist and what we can do for them, the transition should go fairly smoothly."

"How many more Muggles are there than wizards?" A man from the corner asked, genuinely interested in the answer.

"About one wizard, child or adult, for every one hundred thousand Muggles. England has a slightly higher average than that." The man in the corner gave a low whistle.

Scrimgeour cleared his throat, and the man fell silent, looking apologetic. "Will the Muggle leaders of the government pledge support for England once the announcement is made?" Scrimgeour turned to Amelia Bones for the answer.

"Yes, Minister. The United States and the members of the United Nations security council have pledged economic and military support against You-Know-Who. They were reluctant at first, not wanting to make a decision in something they knew little about, but the magical governments of each country will step in and educate them on the threat that You-Know-Who poses. The announcement will be made by the heads of the Muggle governments on the same day to show the world that it isn't a joke."

"Would anyone see it as a joke?" Scrimgeour asked seriously.

"Our world is alien to Muggles," Madam Bones replied. "Would you believe people are on the moon, Minister?"

"No I suppose not," Scrimgeour relented. "But everything is moving into place on schedule?" He was answered with nods all around the room. All of his closest advisors were present. The heart and soul of the wizarding government was in on the project and Scrimgeour was confident of it's success. He gave a rare smile to the room. "That is good to hear. We will win this war yet." Smiles slowly formed around the room mirroring his own, and Scrimgeour gave a nod of approval.

"If it is alright Minister," said Madam Bones, "I must leave to the courtrooms. It is Stan Shunpike's appeal today." The minister was about to allow her to leave, but then stopped to think for a moment. "Make sure that he is given good representation. I would hate for anyone to think we mistreat our suspects." She nodded to him in understanding and left the room. Scrimgeour leaned back in his chair; perhaps it was time to take Harry's advice.

After the door closed, Scrimgeour looked at Weasley again, "How is the search for Mr. Potter coming along?"

Arthur Weasley's eyes softened at the mention of Harry, "Not as well as we'd hoped. It seemed that Dumbledore knew what he was doing when he trained Harry. Whatever spell Harry used, it worked, and we haven't gotten any further in the investigation."

Scrimgeour nodded slowly. "I suppose it is to be expected, but you are to continue searching with as much manpower as you can spare." Arthur nodded. "Good. Now, what other business should be discussed while we are here?"

Just then, banging and muffled shouting came from the large oak doors behind the occupants of Scrimgeour's office, interrupting any response to his question. They burst open, causing Arthur and Scrimgeour to draw their wands. The other occupants didn't react besides gape at the person standing in the doorway. It was a young woman with glossy blond hair wrapped into an impossibly tight bun. Her eyes surveyed the room and its inhabitants for a few seconds. A few guards came up from behind her and grabbed her arms. The guard on the right said, "We're sorry, Minister, but she refused to believe that you were in an important meeting. We're taking her to the Auror's Department right now for questioning."

"Wait one second," said Scrimgeour, still pointing his wand at her. "What did you need to see me for?"

Finally the woman spoke. Her voice was icy and harsh and alluring in a mysterious way. "I have an important message for the Minister and his cabinet. My employer is most anxious for me to deliver the message, so I could not wait any longer. I apologize deeply for the intrusion, but you must hear me out." The woman bowed deeply, but kept her eyes on Scrimgeour.

The minister sat back in his seat and stowed his wand, interested in the girl and her employer. "That is perfectly all right. Who is your employer, and what is the message?"

"He wishes you to know that he knows well of your struggle with some of the members of your society. He offers to help ease the conflict." The woman clasped her hands in front of her and looked around the room quickly before focusing her attention on Scrimgeour, waiting for his answer.

The minister's interest was piqued. "How does he plan on doing that?"

The woman gave a smile, but this one was maliciously feral, "By eliminating his enemies, of course!"

Arthur Weasley saw the woman make a small red sphere appear in her hand. By conjuration or a well disguised hiding spot, he didn't know. He did, however recognize what the device was, and immediately threw himself upon his son. Scrimgeour's outraged cry was cut short by a devastating explosion that incinerated the room, blowing the office door off it's hinges and twenty feet into the hallway.

Arthur Weasley's life was fading fast, but he still knew enough to see that his son was alive and conscious. "Percy... P-percy..." His son's eyes snapped to his father. "Take your notes... and... continue with the p-plan." Fire was raging all around the room, but besides that it was deathly silent. Arthur could barely make out the horribly maimed corpse of Rufus Scrimgeour from the corner of his eye.

His son, blood streaming down his forehead, looked as if he was about to faint. They both laid on the ground for a few seconds, staring at each other. Arthur had the hardest time keeping his eyes open. Finally Percy nodded, just as a tear rolled down his cheek and mingled with blood that wasn't his own.

"Promise me," Arthur said. His voice was barely a whisper.

"I will, father." Arthur tried to move his hand to comfort his son, but found that he couldn't. Instead, he gave a slow nod, just as his eyes closed.

Darkness enveloped the flame-haired man and he would never know anything else, forever.

*

"Catch!" Matt yelled. Harry turned to saw a neon pink frisbee fly towards him. He readied himself at the edge of the dock to catch it. It flew towards him, but suddenly shifted upwards as a gust of wind caught it. Harry jumped for the catch and received a momentary feeling of happiness as his fingers curled around the hard rim of the frisbee. It was short lived, however, because his feet missed the dock entirely and he splashed into the water. Harry resurfaced and wiped his face to see Matt doubled over in laughter.

"Nice one, Harry," Kaycee said as she laid her towel down on a small strip of sandy shore.

Harry swam the short distance back to the beach and walked up to where Kaycee sat. She handed him a towel. "Thanks," he said as he dried off his hair.

Matt took a few steps towards the water but stopped suddenly, teetering on the balls of his feet. "I forgot something!" He turned heel and ran into he house as fast as he could.

Harry shook his head and threw his towel onto the dock, intent on relaxing on the sun-heated sand. Kaycee sat and took off her shirt and swim trunks to reveal a white bikini, sparsely patterned with tropical yellow flowers. It was all Harry could do not to stare. Kaycee had always worn modest one-piece suits when they had gone swimming before. The freckles on her face continued down to her stomach, and her curly blond hair shone is the sun as she turned to him. "Are you going to take that off?"

Harry snapped his mouth shut and stared at her for just a second longer. "Huh?"

"Your shirt," she said. "It's soaked." Harry hadn't gotten a chance to take off his shirt before Matt had tricked him into the water.

"Oh yeah," Harry said, recovering from his hormone induced stupor. He stripped off the lank white shirt and tossed it onto the rock that rolled softly into the water like a granite beach. Harry did a few stretches for it was still fairly early, despite the hot and sunny weather. Walking out onto the dock and preparing to jump in, he peered at the slightly green water. He could just see the sandy bottom, perhaps ten feet below the surface, and smiled fondly at the memory of the Great Lake at Hogwarts. Many afternoons had been wasted away on the shores of the lake by Harry and his friends, watching the giant squid float by and take the chunks of bread thrown into the water by other students.

He was about to dive in headfirst when he heard a wild yell from behind him. "Yeeahoo!" A strange figure flashed by him with a single eye, blue webbed feet, and a big straw sticking out from its head. It took Harry another moment to realize that it was just Matt, completely clad in snorkeling gear. The young boy dove in headlong and came back up. Tilting his head forward, Matt aimed his snorkel at Harry and shot a plume of water at him with a great breath of air. Harry dodged most of it, then dived in the water to fend off another attack. After breaking the surface Harry propelled himself towards Matt, intent on getting some good-humored revenge.

The younger boy momentarily popped the snorkel out of his mouth and yelled, "You can't catch me, I'm the aqua-Matt!" He put the snorkel's mouthpiece back into his mouth and dove under the water, down deep. Harry soon lost him.

"You'd better watch out," Kaycee said interestedly from the shore. "Matt can hold his breath for a long time." Harry looked around and around, waiting for Matt to resurface. Ten seconds passed, then fifteen, and still no sign appeared of Matt. Kaycee got up from her little beach and walked on the dock, not far from where Harry was in the water. She didn't look worried. "Get ready to hold your breath," she said.

Harry barely had time to take a large gulp when a hand seized his ankle and pulled him under with surprising force. Harry looked down to see Matt looking back up at him, a mischievous grin on his ethereal green face and a heavy looking rock tucked under his arm. Harry shook his fist in an eccentric way at Matt, reminding himself of the time a Grindlyow grabbed him during the Triwizard Tournament. Deciding that one trick deserved another he grazed the handle of his wand, which stayed invisible on his wrist at all times, and cast a buoyancy charm. Flailing his arms spectacularly as if fighting against Matt's weight, Harry rose to the surface with Matt and his rock hanging onto his ankle. He broke the surface and smiled at Kaycee, who still stood on the dock. She smiled back.

Matt came up and ripped off his headgear, "Wow, Harry! You're a good swimmer. Dad's the only one that can withstand my granite grip."

"Is that what you call it?" Matt nodded. "It surprised me for a second. You must like the water."

"I love it!" Matt exclaimed, splashing the water with both his hands. He dove back under with his snorkel up in the air, giving him oxygen.

Harry turned towards the shore just in time to see Kaycee step daintily into the water from the beach. "Lets go to the swim dock!" She said, pointing to a floating platform a short distance out from the shore. They ventured out with Matt speeding around and under them, using his enhanced feet to great effect. They reached the dock and climbed onto it, Matt using his fins to make loud slapping noises whenever he took a step. They spent a while playing around, swimming, and diving off of the edges of the platform.

Harry and Kaycee swam back to the beach for a late lunch after Jaclyn brought a picnic basket down to them. Matt decided to swim for a few minutes before coming to shore to join them. After eating Matt ran inside, intent on watching his TV show. Harry and Kaycee decided to take a walk through the forest. They started out north, sticking against the shore, but soon the beach vanished as the forest moved its way right up to the water. Whenever a sandy beach poked out from the trees they would head down and walk it's length. Then the shore would rise up and they would look over the water along short cliffs. They had taken walks like this before, but Harry enjoyed Kaycee's company much more consciously. Sometime during the walk their hands had found each other. Nothing was said, no looks were exchanged, but Harry knew it meant something. It was a deepening of their friendship as they talked openly with each other.

Kaycee talked most of the time, sharing a bit of her past life. Usually it would have annoyed Harry, listening to someone ramble on about themselves needlessly, especially after everything that had happened so recently, but he didn't mind listening to her. For one, while she was telling him a lot, it was not rambling at all. He suspected that Kaycee had a very specific reason to reveal so much about herself. He was just content to listen and nod, and occasionally comment or relate with her. There was one more year of school before she received, what wizards liked to call, her "Muggle License." She called it a diploma. Harry listened as Kaycee talked about how she had many friends but doubted that she would keep in touch with them after graduation, and about how she had no idea what she wanted to do with her life.

"I think there is something blindingly obvious that I'm missing," she had said. "Some basic part of me that I was never told about or never found out about. Y'know what I mean?" Harry nodded and squeezed her hand a bit, not sure of what to say.

After a time, Harry could never recall how long, they headed back. The sun was falling below the tree-covered mountain ridge at the far side of the lake.

Dinner was its normal, comfortable time. The family talked about anything that came to mind, and Harry entertained Jaclyn and Stephen with Matt's attempted 'granite grip' and the ensuing struggle. The rest of the time was spent with Matt happily predicting what amazing presents his eleventh birthday would bring him. Some of his ideas were particularly far-fetched, like getting a permanent doctor's note for skipping school.

After the dishes were done Matt yelled, "Let's play Monopoly!"

The suggestion was met with interested consent by Kaycee, Stephen, and Jaclyn, but Harry was utterly confused. "What's Monopoly?"

Kaycee's eyes brightened as she realized that the classic board game was new to Harry. "Its one of the best games ever made! Come over here and we'll show you." The next hours were spent in the living room playing a simple yet immensely fun game. After Harry realized that a deal could be struck for whatever reason he began offering outrageous terms and exchanges, such as giving Kaycee immunity for Boardwalk and Park Place if she helped fund the development of hotels there. The room was frequently filled with laughter as dice where thrown and colorful money exchanged hands.

Matt, of course, had dashed into his room after they agreed and came out wearing a disguise. He had put on a false pair of glasses, complete with a bulbous nose and a bushy black mustache. In his mouth was a fake, yet convincing cigar. Often during the game, usually when a significant event had happened, he would grumble like an old man or cackle evilly, depending on if it was beneficial to him or not. This would send everyone else into a wave of laughter, just because of the ridiculous way that his mustache twitched and his cigar flopped up and down.

The night was slightly melancholy for Harry as he headed to bed. The Pearsons were what he pictured the perfect family to be, loving, thoughtful, and complete with a generosity streak miles long. Who was he to endanger them, life-debt or not? The best thing for them would be to leave and never return. He was sure that it wouldn't be too hard to make an anonymous deposit to their bank account. Kaycee was the real reason he had stayed, Harry knew. Ever since their walk and him seeing her on the beach that day, he knew that he had fallen slightly for her. A beautiful muggle girl who liked him for who he was, a stranded beggar that her family found on the way to their summer vacation home, was a dream come true. She knew nothing of the war, but was far from ignorant, and constantly surprised him with her sharp mind and friendly nature.

That was another reason he had to leave. They were getting suspicious of him, especially Kaycee. It wouldn't be long before he was confronted, and he knew that he could not-- wouldn't lie to them by the power of the life-debt. He would be in trouble if events progressed that far.

He glanced at the mirror in his room and saw a slightly lanky boy with an ugly scar on his head. He had no chance with her anyways, the beautiful blond with full lips and those cute little freckles... He would leave tonight.

After double-checking that his trunk had been packed, shrunk, and secured inside of his pocket, he crept out of his door slowly. The room was dark and empty, except for the shimmering light of a full moon shining in from the windows to his right, which opened up the wall to reveal the lake. Harry frowned as he saw a figure standing on the edge of the Pearson's dock; their figure silhouetted against the white moonlight that reflected off of the lake's glassy surface. He pulled out his wand slowly and opened the back door without a sound. There was no way he would let a stranger creep around their property at night. He went down the steps slowly, inching towards the lake and using the tall pines to hide him from the figure, even though it was turned towards the water. As he set a foot on the dock, wand pointed directly ahead of him, Kaycee's voice whispered, "Hello, Harry." The soft words seemed like a banshee's scream to him; his wand was out!

He stowed the wand as quickly as possible and had no time to wince as it made an unmistakable sliding sound against the crisp leather. It sounded like a sword being sheathed. Kaycee turned to look at him just as his wand dissapeared completely. She stared at his bare wrist as it settled back down at his side, and then looked at his face. "You're leaving." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Harry said.

She looked at him for a second, her face hidden by the moon out on the water. He knew that his was fully visible. "Why?"

"Because I have to." He couldn't screw this up now.

His answer brought more silence. Kaycee sat on the dock with her back turned to him and dipped her toes into the water. "Come here, Harry." He did, standing next to her, trying to see her face. She kept looking at the water, her hair acting as a wall between them. "Sit down?" It was Kaycee's first request of him. It was loaded with meaning.

Harry did, also dipping his feet into the water after removing his shoes. It was suprisingly warm. They were exactly as they were before, almost a week ago. They had shared one of their first days together here, on their dock, watching the clouds drift by and arguing half-heartedly about what they looked like. Now it would probably be the last time.

"Who are you, Harry?"

Harry sighed. That was one of the questions he feared. "I'm not just sight-seeing, if that's what you mean."

"That isn't my question. You're different, Harry. Who are you?"

She wasn't smarter than she let on, Harry decided just then, she was more brilliant than she let on.

"I didn't want to tell you, but you probably deserve to know. I'm trying to find the person that killed my parents and my friends."

Her gasp was like a knife in Harry's heart. "Is that why you were in the forest?"

"Maybe," Harry said, "But probably not. I think I know the reason why I was there, but it wasn't from anything he could have done." He touched her shoulder hesitantly, and she turned to look at him. Her wet eyes sparkled in the full moon. Harry was ashamed.

"You lied to us, Harry."

"It was for your own safety." When it actually came out of his mouth, even that sounded like a lie.

Kaycee shook her head. "You're lying to yourself."

"I think I do that sometimes," Harry said with a bitter laugh. "I'd better go before your parents find us out here or something." He stood up.

"You're not leaving," Kaycee said.

"Huh?"

The girl stood up quickly and almost violently turned to face him. They stood inches from each other. You're not leaving. Tomorrow we're going on a hike that we take every year. There is something I want to show you. You can decide if you want to tell us your big secret then. I think you might." Kaycee's voice had been getting stronger with every word she spoke.

"Then we are going to go shopping for that birthday gift you owe Matt. On his birthday, you are going to sit through his party and give him that perfect birthday present. I won't stand to see him heartbroken by you leaving in the night. After that, if you want, we can drive you to the airport, although I don't see how you're going to get out of the country without a passport." By the end her voice had reached an alarming level and she was poking him in the chest every time she said 'you.'

Harry had been shrinking back with every single one of her words, especially the part about him betraying Matt's trust. That was exactly what she was implying. In the flurry of accusations he barely reacted to her almost-promise to extract the secret of the wizarding world from him. He hung his head in defeat. "I didn't think about it like that."

Kaycee got off of her toes so that she shrank in from of his eyes. She leaned back and looked at him appraisingly. "I just figured that you didn't think it through." Then she kissed him.

Her lips were soft and warm against his. Harry gave a soft 'mmph' of surprise, but his arm automatically went to her waist. She broke the kiss just as his fingers brushed her side and ran back into the cabin, hair trailing behind her like the mane of a unicorn in flight.

Harry stood on the dock for a minute after the cabin door had slammed shut behind her. What had just happened? He shook his head with a drunken smile. Kaycee had pulled him in, torn him down, guilted him into staying, and then kissed him a heartbeat afterwards. Where had this girl come from?


	7. Chapter 7

Kaycee slammed the bedroom door shut and sank into her reading chair. Why had she kissed him like that? 'Because he's cute,' a voice in her head whispered. She took a few shuddering breaths and restored a bit of her composure. For a few seconds she thought she was better, but then she stood and began to pace, wondering what Harry would think of her now. Kaycee walked over to her mirror and examined herself. She had decided long ago that, while not ugly, she wasn't very beautiful either. Her hair was nice, but nothing else. She had freckles, her nose was too small, and her eyes were too far apart. A person like Harry shouldn't even give her a second glance.

Harry. The wonderfully nice boy with dark glossy hair, beautiful green eyes, lean muscles, and an exotic accent... She tore herself away from the mirror. But those weren't the signs that Harry was giving her, a voice inside of Kaycee's head whispered. Hadn't he held her hand many times? Hadn't he spent most of his free time talking with her? Hadn't she felt his hands just begin to touch her when she had foolishly kissed him?

It didn't matter. He would despise her, she thought, for saying those horrible things to him. Then she kissed him out of some desperate frustration with the entire situation. What message would that send to him? Kaycee didn't know, so she flopped on her bed and punched her pillow before flipping over. Why did he have to look so handsome?

Her gift had spoken to her again earlier that night for the first time since Harry had been found. Its message scared her...

Kaycee had walked into her room, intent on getting a good night's rest before their annual hike when another vision had hit her. It was strong, and images flooded her mind almost faster than she could see. Harry walking out of the front door under a full moon, a stick in his hand and his strange scar on fire with a white light. In her mind she had seen him step off their front porch and spin to his right before disappearing into the night, leaving nothing but footprints in the muddy ground.

The first part of her vision had given her a sense of finality after he had disappeared. Less powerful images had brushed past her consciousness afterwards. She was always present in them, older, more mature, and empty. She would be safe, and unfulfilled.

Soon they ended, but she doubled over as another series rocked through her mind. She had yelled at him, made him feel guilty for leaving without telling anyone, called him ungrateful and insensitive. He had stayed, and she saw happiness in the future. Happiness, fulfillment, love, but also a most powerful sense of sorrow. The same fire burning as she had in her first premonition about Harry appeared, and it was so close in the future. The smell of smoke lingered in her nostrils.

That too had faded and she was sitting once again in her bedroom with a choice. One thing was obvious. Harry was going to leave. Tonight. It was up to her to choose what she wanted. Life and danger, or a half-life, an unfulfilled life, and safety? She shivered, even though the room was warm. The burning house weighed heavily on her mind, how many would suffer because of her decision? Kaycee's entire world was balanced upon her hands, and one false move would make it come crashing down. Perhaps it would fall anyways, no matter what she did. Sighing and lying on her bed, she pondered the momentous decision. Her family would be affected by this, she knew, and that made it so much harder. What was she to do?

Hours later, Kaycee didn't know how long, she left her room and silently slipped out of the cabin. She was barefoot, but the night wasn't all that cold. The lake sparkled like crystal under the moon and steam was rising off small sections near the shore. She walked out onto the dock where she had spent her first meaningful moments with Harry, dipped her toes into the water, and waited. After this, her life would never be the same.

Kaycee stayed on her bed, quite calm now. The decision was made, her course set. Harry was going to stay, she knew, and tomorrow she would take him to her place. The thought brought a sense of peace to her. Tomorrow, everything would be revealed.

The next morning dawned clear and hot. Kaycee jumped out of bed the minute she had opened her eyes and tended to her morning tasks; brushing her teeth, showering, and the like. She went into the kitchen to find Harry already there, making breakfast. She had half a mind to turn tail and escape into her bedroom, but dismissed the thought immediately. She had to be brave in this, she had to be strong to make sure that her premonitions were fulfilled. She sat down at the table and Harry immediately dumped scrambled eggs and toast onto the plate in front of her. Kaycee looked up at Harry to see him smiling at her, totally unembarrassed at what had happened the night before. Perhaps she hadn't been rash after all!

"Eat up," Harry said lightly, "Got to get all the energy we can for the hike today."

"Yeah!" Kaycee replied, nodding. "It's going to be a blast!"

The other Pearsons soon congregated in the kitchen and thanked Harry for making breakfast. Matt had bounded in like a lion, moving towards his chair as if he was stalking it. "One!" he whispered dramatically, holding up a finger. "One more day until my birthday!"

Harry had laughed at that, such a natural laugh. He was different from when he had first arrived, Kaycee thought, and not just because of his broken ribs. He opened up more often and let his emotions through. He was like a soda bottle that had been opened, allowing all of his fizzy goodness to overflow.

Everyone piled into the Pearson's car after breakfast, the trail being a good ten miles away from the cabin. During the drive Kaycee's dad had recapped for Harry what would be happening, to remember to bring extra water, sunscreen, mosquito repellent, and the like. Matt had turned on his Game boy and was occupying himself quietly. Kaycee knew, however, that he was looking forward to visiting their 'secret place' just as much as she was. Matt probably just didn't want to cause any trouble that would prevent them from visiting it.

The ride was soon finished, and Harry was briefed on all of the details. Pulling into a parking lot after paying a small fee to the ranger at a booth, everyone unloaded and got ready to climb. As Kaycee rubbed a bit of mosquito repellent on her arms, she noticed Harry surreptitiously touching his left wrist. He did that quite often, she thought. Was it some nervous habit he had? Shaking the thought out of her head, she smiled as Harry turned and looked at her. She noticed that Harry never put on any suntan lotion or repellent, but never said anything. It was his own fault if he got burnt or bitten.

"Everyone ready to go?" Jaclyn asked.

After a chorus of enthusiastic agreement, even from Harry, the family set out.

*

"Jacob, wake up." The voice was calm, cool, and collected. "Wake up," it said again, "We are departing."

Slowly Jacob opened his eyes. His father stood over him, lightly shaking his shoulders. Glancing over at his clock with nine revolving planets, he noted that it was still two hours before dawn. "We are leaving?" It had been decided that Jacob and his father would leave for England on the first of August, still a few weeks away.

"Yes, someone has forced our hand. The locket that is being kept safe for us is threatened, and I do not know if she is an enemy."

"Who is an enemy?" Jacob asked blankly.

"The girl who broke the protections on my old diary. It reveals much information that I wouldn't want the Dark Lord to know I possess." Black looked slightly worried, even in the dim light.

Jacob got out of his bed. "But who is she, father?" he asked as he dressed.

"I do not know. She has red hair. About your age." He walked to the door of the room. "We must leave soon. Collect only what you need."

Jacob nodded curtly and gathered a few things, his wand of teak with the core of phoenix feather entwined around unicorn hair, a watch, dragon hide boots, and a few potions. His father told him to go into the kitchen when he was ready. "This is it," he told himself quietly. They were leaving to England, the place of his birth, to retrieve another horcrux, one threatened by a red haired girl. His father had told him many times about how he had found the first horcrux, a locket, but had been unable to destroy it. The dark object had been left with a trusted keeper while Black and the baby Jacob had fled the country. The cup had been found during their exile, which had been an ominous discovery. How many more where there?

Jacob entered the kitchen after gathering everything that he would need to stay comfortable for a few days, and a couple of items to help him in case there was fighting. Two glass vials were hooked upon his belt, along with his dark wand. One was dark purple with blue, shimmering swirls moving around ceaselessly. It was an invisibility potion and would give Jacob and his father the element of surprise. The other was one of Jacob's own creations, which he had fondly named the Draught of Multiplicity. The drinker would immediately split into three persons, two being copies that would either mimic the drinker's movements or follow his mental commands.

Regulus eyed Jacob's dress approvingly, right down to the belt and dragon hide boots. He was ready for a fight, which was a definite possibility. "Are you ready?"

"I think so," Jacob said hesitantly. "What's going to happen when we arrive? Where are we going, exactly?"

"We are going to the ancestral home of the our family," his father answered. "The girl is there, although I don't know why. The house should be empty." Black's eyes glazed over for just a second before snapping back to attention. "We will arrive in the same room that my diary is in. I put a spell on it before I left, years ago. When the girl tried to break the spell an hour ago the diary caught her face and voice and sent them to me. Another part of the spell allows me to Apparate near it. We will go there together, and I think you should use your invisibility potion before we depart. If the girl is there, we may have other opponents to overcome."

Jacob nodded, deep in thought. "How do you know that they are opponents? What if they share our cause?" It was possible, Jacob thought, that the girl could be an ally. Perhaps she wanted the diary to seek out information on horcruxes, to destroy them, however many there were.

Black shook his head. "The only remaining people that could have opened the manor are myself, Bellatrix, and my brother Sirius. They are both servants of the Dark Lord, particularly Sirius. He was the one who betrayed the Potter family."

That was bad news. Was the girl a Death Eater? She must be if she gained entry to his father's old house. But why would a Death Eater be seeking Voldemort's horcruxes?

"Are you ready? We must find her quickly."

Jacob nodded, half ready for his first active part in the war, half terrified.

"Then we go," Black said quietly. "Drink your potion. We will depart after I feel your hand in mine."

Jacob uncorked the flask with the shimmering purple liquid and drained it in one gulp. He felt a coldness creep through him, as if his very skin was becoming thin and watered down. He shivered at the pleasant feel. It was like stepping out into the cool air from an overheated room. Replacing the flask on his now invisible belt, he took his father's outstretched hand.

They both Disapparated with a small pop!

*

Hermione sat in the library of Grimmauld Place, pouring over Black's open diary and a reference book for breaking dark spells. After her preliminary examination of Black's diary Hermione decided that much of it was charmed so that it showed blank pages to anyone who wasn't supposed to read it. The few entries that were visible consisted mostly of random phrases and disconnected thoughts. Dates seemed to skip around, many of them being written after Regulus' supposed death in 1980, and they gave Hermione even more of a headache than her experience using a time-turner in third year. It was almost as if the diary was begging to be snooped around in.

That was the very reason that gave her pause to pushing the diary too hard. It was painfully obvious that the Regulus had somehow protected his most personal thoughts and experiences. Since he was a Death Eater, Hermione didn't really want to experience any of the curses that he had cast on his journal.

That's where her reference book came in. Hermione had found the book, entitled, The Dark Arts Explained in the same hidden section as Black's journal. The old, crusty tome with pages of brown parchment had an entire section on dark concealment curses, some meant specifically for documents and the like. While the spells themselves did nothing that could be considered dark, they allowed other curses to be combined with them. The spells lacked any termination clauses, allowing any number of curses to be roped into the object, including Avada Kedavra, Crucio, and Imperio. All in all, it was rather nasty.

Hermione heard footsteps approach the library and she hid her work underneath a few, less incriminating encyclopedias. It was Ron.

"Hi," he said shortly, but not unkindly. Ron had been subdued ever since his father's death. "How's it coming along?"

The young woman sighed. It had been a long process, trying to figure out exactly what Black had done to protect his journal. "Almost ready to try and break it, I think. Just a few more minutes to be safe."

Ron's face brightened momentarily, but it soon faded. Every day for almost a week he had asked his girlfriend about the journal and he had finally gotten a positive answer. "Just be careful, yeah? Don't try anything if you aren't sure."

Hermione nodded distractedly as she pulled out the reference book to make a few more calculations. It had been near three weeks since Harry had left and hope for his safe return was fading fast. The Order had all but stopped the searches and the Prophet had moved onto other stories. There was no trace of their best friend.

The Daily Prophet had stopped reporting on the 'search for the chosen one' as they called it to instead cover a momentous decision from the Ministry, now headed by Amelia Bones and Percy Weasley.

The Weasley patriarch had been killed over a week prior. The memory was still vivid in Hermione's mind...

She had been sitting on at the kitchen table, sharing lunch with Ron, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley. They were enjoying their food and the rare day of sunshine when Hermione heard a cup shatter. Mrs. Weasley had dropped her cup and was staring wide-eyed at the family clock that was sitting on the kitchen mantle. Two hands had shifted to 'mortal peril' with a foreboding chime. Nothing happened for a few seconds. The tension in the air was almost palpable. Then, the longest hand bearing Arthur's name had faded from sight.

At first there had been silence. A complete, unbreakable silence after the clock had sounded its chime. Then, Mrs. Weasley had started weeping. Her cries where the only sound in the room, a slow, unmistakable sob of anguish. Her husband was lost, forever.

Dumbledore and a few Order members had come quickly. Bill and Charlie were there, along with a bleeding and almost catatonic Percy. Mrs. Weasley ran over to her once lost son and embraced him. All he could manage back, Hermione saw, was a smile. A chime sounded in the room and Percy's hand on the clock had shifted from 'Mortal Peril' to 'Home.' It had been the first time in over a year it had rested there, along with the rest of the family.

During the entire time Ron had never said a single word.

Percy was now working directly with Amelia Bones as they headed the Ministry jointly as the only two survivors as Scrimgeour's advisory cabinet. Within a few days of the attack the Prophet had reported momentous news from the ministry, a planned total revocation of the Statute of Secrecy.

That wasn't all, however. The ministry was now broken up into different, remote locations for reasons of security. The various buildings that had been chosen to house the different departments were put under the Fidelus Charm and Floo communication was put on a separate and secure network. Grimmauld Place was now headquarters for the executive Ministry (which consisted of only Percy and Madam Bones) as well as the Order of the Phoenix. In short, the Ministry had downsized and was now putting all of its efforts into the war. Requests of help had been sent to other magical governments around the world, and a few had responded by sending Aurors and financial support.

In response, Voldemort and his Death Eaters had increased their attacks into the public muggle spectrum. Even though the wizarding community paled in comparison to the total population, the sheer ferocity of the battles and ease of mobility made Muggle governments believe that a greater terrorist insurgency had come out of nowhere. Muggle governments around the world had declared England a war zone within a few days. Not knowing who the actual enemy was had caused many countries to stop trade completely and had all but barred immigration and emigration from the country. It was far worse than the first conflicts had ever been. Now it was war, one that the entire world knew about.

It was for that exact reason that the Statute of Secrecy was scheduled to be revoked. The entire world was aware of the strange happenings in England. Percy often reported of stories appearing on Muggle news networks about the seemingly randomness of the attacks and the total lack of bodies, even though witnesses saw casualties. What was worse was that reports of 'strange new weapons' were being used in the war zone of England; weapons that used beams of light to kill, destroy, and by some accounts, create. It was time that the world knew the truth of the war in England and who should be trusted.

"I think I'm ready," Hermione said, closing the dark reference tome gently. "Do you know what you're supposed to do?"

"Shield charm," Ron grunted, "On you."

Hermione nodded and kept a frown to herself. Ron rarely talked since his father's death. She shook the thought out of her head and set Black's journal on the clean table, giving her a clean workspace. Opening it to the page where the spell first began obscuring the entries she began a slow chant in Latin, tracing the page in intricate patterns with her wand tip.

She felt the warmth of Ron's shielding charm wash over her and smiled a bit despite herself. Someone's magic only felt like that if they truly cared about you. Black's journal began to glow slightly, pulsing in time with Hermione's continuing incantation.

The light began to fade, and was replaced with a slow humming. Hermione would have frowned if she didn't have to continue with her spell. She redoubled her efforts, lest she lose her only chance to decrypt the Black's diary.

The small book on the table began to whistle slightly, and Hermione panicked at the sound. The spell had been activated!

"Finite Incantatem!" she screamed suddenly, hoping to avoid whatever was about to be activated. The diary exploded in a shower of bright sparks, burning Hermione's exposed skin. She pulled back into the shield charm as the sparks washed over her and was saved from any major injury. The diary still laid on the table, but a strange silvery substance was floating over it.

Ginny walked in just then and let out a gasp as she saw the diary. "A memory," she whispered with wide eyes. As she spoke the silvery memory seemed to spring to life, gaining in thickness and bulk, absorbing her words. Then it faded from sight and a light breeze swept through the room, leaving the diary as it had been before. Ginny stood frozen in the doorway. "What happened?"

Hermione shrugged and picked up the diary hesitantly, her eyes growing wide as she took in the new words upon the open page. It had worked!

"Ron, Ginny, look here! Everything makes sense now!" Hermione flipped through the pages quickly as Ron looked on. The dates were in chronological order and the entries seemed to be long and detailed. Black's true words and loopy script filled the pages from front to back.

Ginny came over and took the diary from Hermione, scanning the pages. "Everything is in here! Look at these dates, they're so recent."

"You did it," Ron whispered, taking a seat next to Hermione. He pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her. "You're great," he said seriously, looking into her eyes.

Ginny withdrew respectfully, taking the journal with her to study it alone.

Hermione laughed softly at his choice of words, relieved at the emotion that he was finally showing. She had been so worried about him after his father's death, "Thank you." She kissed him then, "And welcome back."

Hermione barely registered the fact that Ginny had left the room with the diary. They could take it up later. The only thing that mattered now was Ron and how he was finally grieving for his father. Right now, he needed her support. They sat on the small couch in the library, Ron's arms wrapped protectively around her from behind. For a time they stayed like that, perfectly still and content, no words exchanged.

Then Ron started talking. He told her about his fears, of losing her, of never finding Harry, of Voldemort winning. Ron had only let a few tears for his father out, but for him it was enough. Crying was not something that Ron did, really. Instead, she found talking to be just as good a release for him. So they talked, and didn't stop for a long time.

A while later the conversation drifted to slightly lighter topics, and Hermione knew that Ron felt much better. The tension in his hands had drained out of him during the past hour. Now he was relaxed. Sad, yes, but comfortable with his Hermione next to him. "Do you think we should check and see what Ginny has read?" Ron asked.

Hermione nodded. It was about time that they started looking for information from the journal. They ascended the stairs to the girl's bedroom hand in hand.

They had just reached the landing when a half-scream came from the room. "Who are you? Get away from me!" It was Ginny's voice.

They burst into the room to see a man standing with his wand out on the far side of the room, too close to Ginny for comfort. The red haired girl scrambled backwards towards Ron and Hermione who both drew their wands quickly.

"Children?" the man said in a chilling voice. "He has children protecting this house?"

Ron spoke first. "Who are you?" he demanded, "How did you get in here?"

"I am nobody," the man replied silkily. "I am just looking for-" he spotted the diary on the bed, where Ginny had left it. "Ahh! I am looking for this." He was after the diary!

"Stupefy!" Hermione shouted as the man reached for the book, but the man deflected it before it reached him.

"Using such an elementary curse? Does he not train his recruits properly anymore?" The man was mocking them, Hermione thought angrily. Of course Harry and Dumbledore had trained them!

A curse came silently from Ginny's wand. The long-haired man made to deflect it again but it smashed through his defenses. Slimy green bats wriggled out of his nose and began to scratch at his eyes and bite his cheeks.

"Stupefy!" Hermione yelled again. This time the curse was not held off and the man slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Ron made his way over to retrieve the diary when he tripped and fell. A new voice, younger and without a source, rang through the room. "Stay where you are! If you are against the Dark Lord, we are your allies." Two identical figures appeared in front of the unconscious man.

A long moment filled with tension passed slowly as they took in the boy with dark hair standing in front of them twice. The boy's dark hair fell down to past his eyes, but it was swept to either side so they could see his dark eyes. His cheeks were high and his eyebrows were slender and proud. Hermione was forcibly reminded of a younger Sirius, the one that was laughing with James and Lily during their wedding.

Ron scrambled backwards, the boy made no movement to stop him. "Sirius?" Hermione asked hesitantly, "That's not you, is it?"

The voice spoke again, but neither figure of the boy opened his mouth. "So it is true, you know the Death Eater, Sirius Black."

"Sirius was a good man!" Ginny said suddenly. "He wasn't the traitor everyone thought he was!."

"And yet he betrayed the Potter family, almost killing the only hope for all Wizard-kind." Their mouths' never moved as they spoke.

Hermione gasped involuntarily. These people, whoever they were, knew of the prophecy! "Who are you?" she asked quietly.

"We are two soldiers fighting against Voldemort." The voice spoke Voldemort's name without a hitch or waiver.

Suddenly the man that had fainted on the floor awakened. He seemed dazed but started to stand anyways, seemingly pulled up by invisible forces rather than under his own power. Hermione tightened the grip around her wand but did nothing.

A quiet, unintelligible whisper ran on the far side of the room, and the older man stood pensively, listening to words Hermione couldn't hear.

The older man nodded once and picked up the conversation of the sourceless voice, "The spells on this diary were broken just recently. We came to protect the secrets it holds. Now, who are you?"

Hermione hesitated to say anything. Were these people telling the truth? She had just opened her mouth to deny the man information when Ginny spoke up, "Ginny Weasley. This is my brother Ron, and our friend, Hermione," she said, gesturing to each of them in turn."

The man seemed to relax slightly. "The Weasley clan," he said in a calm voice. "Your red hair says much about your truthfulness. One last question before we are satisfied. What order do you pledge loyalty to?"

There was a hint in the question, Hermione thought quickly. He wanted a specific answer. "The Order of the Phoenix."

The two figures dissapeared and the young disembodied voice spoke again, "I told you they could be trusted, father."

The older man nodded and put away his wand slowly, giving a significant look to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. It was a show of good faith.

Hermione began to do the same when a slight a slight heat ran through the room. A figure faded into sight at the shoulder of the older man. It was the young boy whose dual figures had stood over his father's unconscious body. Like his father the boy stored his wand and turned his palms face up, saying, "We are allies. Now please, put away your wands."

"Who are you two?" Ron asked in amazement. "How did you get in here? This place is supposed to be protected!"

"My name is Jacob," the boy said in a civil tone. It was as if the tension between them hadn't taken place just a few seconds before. If truth be told, Hermione thought to herself, Jacob sounded rather timid after the threat of attack had dissolved. Not at all like Sirius.

"And I," said Jacob's father, "Am Regulus Black." He gave them a sweeping bow, holding one hand to his chest and the other holding back his cape.

A shocked silence ran though the room. Regulus Black? "But how- You're supposed to be dead!" Hermione exclaimed in amazement.

"Shh!" Ginny said urgently. The younger girl shut the door behind them and locked it. Ron just stood there, open mouthed.

Regulus raised an eyebrow at their reactions. "Jacob," he said, "It seems more has happened since our departure that we previously thought." He drew his wand and quickly summoned five chairs, one for each of them, and gestured for everyone to sit. He took his diary from the bed and flipped through it. "Who informed the Order that I had been killed?

"Remus Lupin told Harry that you were hunted down and killed after you ran," Hermione said. "We didn't have any reason to believe otherwise."

Regulus nodded. "That is what I wanted everyone to believe. The truth is that my son Jacob was born and I knew that the life of a Death Eater was not what I wanted for him. There is no happiness in killing and hating."

Jacob spoke, "Sirius wasn't serving Voldemort, you said?" he asked, addressing Ginny. "Who betrayed the Potters then?"

"It was Peter Pettigrew, one of their friends," Ron said. "They made him secret-keeper and he turned them over to Voldemort shortly after that."

"I see," Black said pensively, stroking his chin. His attention had been on the diary as Jacob had been speaking. "How much of this have you read?"

"None," Hermione said, "But before you ask, we know about the horcruxes and about you taking the locket."

Black's eyebrows shot up. "Do you? I can't believe Dumbledore told everyone in the Order about them. It would be disastrous if Voldemort ever found out that we knew!"

"Don't mistake us," Hermione replied. "Only a few people know about them. Just Harry, you two, and us." She pointed to Ron, Ginny, and herself. "No one else knows."

"You mustn't forget Dumbledore," Black said. "In fact, he is the one that I must speak with. Will you fetch him?"

No one said anything for a few seconds. Then, "Professor Dumbledore is dead."

"Dead?" Black repeated, aghast. "Dumbledore is dead, and he left the knowledge of the Dark Lord's immortality to four teenagers?"

"Yeah, sounds about right." Ron said. "The government has pretty much fallen, too. What's left of it is scattered around the country in safe houses. My brother and Amelia bones are here and are the acting Ministers of Magic."

"Everything is worse than we thought," Jacob said, shaking his head.

"Without Dumbledore to lead, something like this is to be expected." Black turned to Hermione and the two Weasley siblings, "What is being done to actually fight the Dark Lord?"

"Other countries have been sending Aurors to help us," Hermione replied. "They've been going a long way to help with the battles."

"We've been stuck here because we are just little kids," Ginny said spitefully, "But our work is much more important than anything else. They don't even know about it."

"The horcruxes," Jacob said quietly.

"That's right," Hermione said. "We were hoping that diary was going to lead us to the locket, but it turns out that it lead to something better."

"Indeed," Black said with his eyebrows raised. "It seems that Jacob and I are back to fight just in time."

"You haven't even heard the best part," Ron said sarcastically. "Because of all of the open fighting that's been going on, the Muggles are getting suspicious. England is everything but a declared war zone."

"Amelia Bones and the Prime Minister, along with the other European heads-of-state, are going to announce the existence of wizards and are going to explain the situation going on here. They hope that the world will mobilize and that the pressure is put on Voldemort." Black looked at Hermione like she was insane.

"It's true," Ginny said quietly. "The announcement is going to happen tomorrow morning at eight. It's been set up for a while now. Everyone witch and wizard in the world is scared out of their wits at what could happen."

"Jacob," Regulus said in a shocked tone very unlike his usual self, "It seems that much more has happened since our departure that we previously thought."

*

Harry's mood couldn't have been better as he climbed up a few granite boulders, side by side with Kaycee. The day was sunny, the air was fresh, and there was a beautiful girl right beside him. The sun and mosquitoes were staying away due to a few repellent charms and the hike was fairly challenging. The five hikers climbed up rocks, boulders, over roots and streams, and up steep slopes of packed dirt and fallen tree trunks. Huge pine trees towered all around them and blotted out any direct sunlight, so they hiked along in the pleasant shade. They moved up the mountain like this for a while, talking about whatever came into their minds. Harry and Kaycee sometimes hung back or moved on ahead so that they could talk a bit more privately, but Matt usually caught them before long. It seemed like he was making sure that Kaycee didn't take Harry to see the surprise alone.

"Is everyone ready for lunch?" Jaclyn asked.

"That would probably be good," Stephen said.

"Let's stop in a bit." Kaycee panted as she pulled herself up a particularly large boulder. Harry was waiting at the top and helped her get her footing back. "Thanks! I think I remember a stream up ahead. We should eat there."

After a few more minutes the forest opened up to a particularly large stream that cascaded its way down a bare rock face to their left. At the bottom of the waterfall was a pool of clear creek water and a number of smooth flat rocks that were perfect for sitting on. The group unpacked their lunches and tucked in. Harry took his time eating the wonderful tuna sandwich that Jaclyn had made. If Harry had died right then, he would have died a happy man.

Matt finished first and began exploring the lightly cascading waterfall above the pool. Much of the rock face was dry, and so he set to climbing it as everyone else finished. When he made it to a ledge about twenty feet up he puffed out his chest and beat on it. "I am Tarzan!" he shouted to his family down below. "Do not defy me, for I control the beasts of this forest!"

Harry just chuckled and stuffed the trash from his lunch back into his pack. Matt climbed back down after Jaclyn called him and they all prepared to set out once again.

They hadn't gotten a hundred yards past the edge of the creek when the path split into two forks. A sign pointed to the right and told Harry that it was the correct one to the peak, which Stephen had told him had been their destination. The trail looked well work with travel, while the other seemed barely used. It wouldn't hold two people walking side by side and was covered in pine needles. It looked more like a deer trail than anything that a person would travel on.

"Woah!" Matt said excitedly. "Where do you think that other path goes, dad?"

Stephen eyed the left fork almost suspiciously, "I don't know, but we have to go right to get to the peak. See what the sign says?"

"But doesn't it look like it would be fun to explore?" Kaycee asked sweetly. "What do you think, Harry?" She nudged him in the ribs and gave him a significant look.

"Well," Harry said hesitantly, "It does look like it would be fun to see where it goes."

"Yeah! Come on Mom, Dad, let's go!" Matt grabbed both his parent's arms and led them forward.

The three hadn't made it ten steps into the left fork when Stephen stopped. "Uh, maybe it would be better if you three went along by yourselves. Your mother and I forgot something back at the creek, didn't you, dear?"

"Why, yes I think I did," Jaclyn replied. "Forgot to pack up some trash. You can get a big fine for that And it can attract bears, besides that."

Kaycee's parents turned around and walked back towards Harry and Kaycee, towards where they had stopped at the creek. Their eyes were strange, and Harry's good mood was immediately replaced by suspicion.

"Now you two keep Matt safe," Stephen said. "And don't be gone longer than half an hour. We will be waiting by the creek when you're done exploring."

"Okay!" Kaycee said brightly. "Don't worry about us, I'm sure Harry can keep us safe." She grabbed his and and led him along the left path without any hesitation.

About ten steps in, Harry felt a familiar tingling in his arms. It was something that he had felt ever since his first trip to Hogwarts. He had just crossed the boundaries of magical wards, and by the way that Kaycee's parents had reacted, they were anti-muggle wards. But then how did Matt and Kaycee get through? The wards certainly had known Harry was there and allowed him to pass. He never would have felt a tingle if they didn't approve him for entry. Perhaps the wards were old and couldn't deflect people with an excitement to explore.

"Er, Kaycee... Is this what you wanted to show me?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Yeah, you're going to love it!" She gave him a sideways look, "You aren't going to turn around like my parents, are you? They do this every year.

So Kaycee and Matt had crossed the ward boundaries before, and they still remembered the exact location of where to find their secret spot. Harry shook his head and frowned, no wonder no one else knew where it was. "I just don't get why they refuse to come this way," Kaycee continued. "It's like they don't trust it or something. All I get is a warm feeling because I love this place so much."

Harry stopped so suddenly that Kaycee didn't have time to react and was jerked backwards by their still interlinked hands. "Harry, what's wrong?" He just stared at her, and Kaycee looked affronted when he didn't say anything. "Hey, just because I said that this place makes me all tingly inside doesn't give you the right to look at me like I'm stupid. I just like coming here, alright?"

Harry shook his head. "No, it's not that. I just- I had that feeling too."

"You did?"

Harry nodded, now thinking furiously. "Yeah."

A smile broke out on Kaycee's face, "Then you'll love this place just as much as I do!" With that, she began pulling him around a tight bend in the path. The trees opened up into a grassy clearing with a single, gently rising hill. On top of the hill, in the very center of the clearing was a marble dais surrounded by pillars in a perfect circle. Matt had already run up the grassy slope and was pulling himself up to the top of the dais over giant-sized steps, towards the top of the white marble platform where a golden basin stood alone. It reminded Harry of the island in the center of Voldemort's cavern, where he had hidden Slytherin's locket, but it was much larger and more magnificent.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Kaycee asked.

"Yeah, it is," Harry breathed, still taking in the bright, smooth pillars and the massive dais. "I've never seen anything like it."

Kaycee gave him a dazzling smile and led him up the hill, over the soft grass, and up the huge stone steps to the golden basin at the top of the dais.

Matt was waiting for them when they reached the top, eying their hands where they joined. "About time you slackers got up here," he said seriously. "We don't have lots of time, y'know!"

Harry just smiled at him congeniality. "Sorry," he said lightly, "I was just taking in everything I've just realized."

"What did you just realize?" Kaycee asked curiously.

That both you and Matt are magical, and neither of you know it. There was no other explanation as to why Kaycee could feel the wards accepting her, why her parents chose to stay behind, and why the entire area had been untouched by muggle hands. Matt's 11th birthday was tomorrow, so while it was unusual that he was a wizard, it was still a believable possibility. Kaycee's situation, however, didn't make sense. She was sixteen! Why didn't the American schools of magic send her a letter?

Harry was saved the task of answering when he heard a whoosh come from behind him. He turned quickly to find a torch that had been bolted to the inside of a marble column light itself. Every column held a torch, each one pointing towards the golden basin in the center of the raised dais. The torches were eight or nine feet above the bottom of each pillar, but were almost level with the basin because of the height of the dais.

The single torch stayed light, crackling merrily. It was the only sound in the entire clearing. Harry couldn't hear a single bird song or the distant and hollow roar of the cool winds as they swept over the mountain peaks. All was silent, save the steady burn of the single torch.

Harry heard Kaycee step beside him, also looking at the torch. Harry was just about to ask her if she knew something was going to happen when the fire leaped out and over their heads towards the opposite pillar in a lazy arc. It struck the opposite torch which lit with a deep red fire instead of the natural orange of the first torch. There the two torches sat, burning innocently.

"Harry," Kaycee began, "Are you-"

Both torches struck their flames out counterclockwise in a great circle, heading to meet the other and lighting every torch that was passed. Within a few seconds green, yellow, blue, pink, and even pure white fires burned all around Kaycee, Harry, and Matt. Thin streams of smoke rose upwards, each the same color as the fire below, creating vibrant extensions of the white pillars that each torch was bolted to.

High above the ground, each column of smoke curved inwards over the heads of Harry and his friends, meeting and coalescing into a great vapory mass. Slowly the multi-hued mass sank downwards, shrinking and thickening into a heavy substance. The liquid smoke deposited itself into the golden basin, confining itself below the edges of the bowl. The torches all around them were died as if they were snuffed out by invisible fingers, but the smoke inside the basin remained, looking very much like a Pensive.

Harry turned towards Kaycee and Matt, "Did you two know this was going to happen?"

Their shocked expressions said enough. "I thought you did it, Harry!" Matt said. "What was that? It was so cool!"

"It wasn't me," Harry said truthfully. Both boys turned to Kaycee.

"Not me!" she said. "Why hasn't this ever happened before?"

"I dunno," Harry said, "But I don't think we should stay here for long." The large amounts of magic that the ritual had produced was sure to attract some sort of magical response, whether it be wizard or creature.

"You're probably right," Kaycee said, eying him carefully. "Mom and Dad might get worried."

"Oh, fine," Matt said reluctantly. "Just let me do one thing." Matt set down his backpack and pulled out an empty glass jar. "I wanted to catch some bugs to scare you with, Kaycee," he explained, "But this is much more important, I think."

Before Harry could stop him, Matt plunged the glass jar into the stone basin. His hand stayed inside for a few seconds, and Harry though it had been trapped inside, but he pulled it out and immediately replaced the lid, sealing it full of thick, swirling colors. "It feels really warm, and it sorta clung to my hand like static!" He looked at his jar full of color. "I wonder what it is..."

Kaycee walked over to the basin and also put her hand inside, despite Harry's half-hearted protests.

"Oh be quiet, Harry. You don't know what this is any more than we do." She was silent for a few seconds, her hand hidden in the dense smoke. "Wow you're right! It feels like something is holding my hand." She pulled her hand out. "Come on Harry, give it a try really quickly. You'll like it."

Harry sighed and walked over to the basin, ignoring the warning bells going off in his head. Kaycee and Matt had put their hands in, after all. Harry held his breath, much like he had done the first time he saw a pensive, and dipped his hand down into the thick colorful smoke. He immediately understood what Kaycee was talking about. Tendrils of the warm smoke formed gentle loops between his fingers and seemed to slide around his hand like water. It was graceful, gentle, noninvasive and yet, there was something else. A searching feeling was coming from the basin, as if it was looking for something within Harry. It scared him, and he immediately jerked his hand out of the basin. It came cleanly, the surface of the smoke roiling and curling where his hand had been. "We should go."

Kaycee, Matt, and Harry climbed carefully down the giant steps and towards the crack in the trees where the path back into the forest was visible. No one said anything as they went down the clean white stone. Harry's mind was still back in the stone basin, where he had seen the smoke dissipate just before he climbed over the first ledge. What was this place?

They reached grass and began walking towards the perimeter of columns. The torches had long been extinguished and looked as if they had never been lit, Harry noticed as he crossed between two , a rumbling thunder split the silence of the clearing and shook the ground with its ferocity.

"Woah!" Matt exclaimed from behind Harry, "Look at this!" Harry turned to see Matt holding what was unmistakably a wand in his right hand. "It just fell down from the sky!"

"There's one here too!" Kaycee said, bending down to pick up a creamy white wand that had fallen at her feet. "What are these sticks for?"

Harry looked around to see if a wand had also dropped at his feet, but instead saw a piece of paper. It was a photograph. Harry bent down and picked it up. It was a muggle picture of a red haired man and a bushy haired woman, holding a baby wrapped within a bundle of blankets. Harry let out a gasp as he realized it was Ron and Hermione, but much older. They were smiling down at the baby, who Harry could see had the fuzzy beginnings of a full head of red hair. Harry rubbed his thumb over the photograph, hoping in his subconscious that he could talk to his best friends once again. He missed them so much.

"What is that, Harry?" Kaycee asked, walking up next to him and examining the picture in his hands.

"They're my friends back in England. I just realized exactly how much I miss them." Harry looked back towards the dais, suddenly realizing what it was. "A gifting place," he said silently. Dumbledore had told him about places like this during one of their long sessions in his office. The ancient wizards had built places of good magic. Places that would help worthy people that came to them and supplied it with a a bit of magic. The most famous gifting place was Stonehenge, its powers long extinct, used on some unknown wizard many years before.

Dumbledore had said that gifting places like were the precursors for the Room of Requirement back in Hogwarts, but fulfilled the person's needs and wishes on a much more powerful level. The Room or Requirement loaned, changed, and adapted to a need, while gifting places created objects for a person to use forever. Once a gifting place was activated, it couldn't be used again for hundreds of years.

Matt's voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts. "Think these things are worth anything?" he asked, tossing his new wand back and fourth and flipping it in the air.

"I'm sure they are," Harry said seriously. "You should probably keep it."

"Well, duh," Matt said. "I can feel that this thing is valuable. I'm not going to sell it, but I was curious."

"We should probably leave," Kaycee said from beside Harry. She was looking at him strangely, from him, to his left wrist, back to the creamy wand in her hand. Harry's stomach dropped. She was making connections, but it really wouldn't matter tomorrow. Kaycee was a witch and Matt a wizard, and tomorrow when Matt's owl came, they would know everything.

"Yeah," Harry said, looking at his new picture once more, his heart suddenly light. "We shouldn't keep them waiting."


	8. Chapter 8

Harry awoke the next morning, happier than he could ever remember feeling. Today was Matt's birthday, and one of the most important days of his life. Today, the Pearson family would find out about magic and Harry would, after assuring them that his being there was entirely coincidental, give them the warmest welcome he could.

That welcome won't be very warm once you tell them about the war, a nasty voice inside his head whispered. They're going to hate you for breaking the news.

"Shut up," he said out loud, shaking his head. He didn't need doubtful thoughts like that. Still the idea bugged him because to an extent, the voice was right. What would they say when he told them about the war? Would they have found out otherwise? It was possible that they could have been left out entirely, but Harry doubted that the war could be hidden for much longer. It was hard to disguise the death of hundreds of people that shouldn't have been dying.

They were all questions without answers. The fact was that Kaycee and Matt were both magical. Harry changed his clothes and opened the door to his adopted bedroom to find Kaycee sitting on a chair in the hallway outside. She looked up at him and smiled, but he could tell something was on her mind. Wonder what that is.

"Hi, Harry. Walk with me?" She got up and headed towards the lake, Harry silently in tow. They walked down the steps on the back porch and on an impulse, Harry took her hand. They had kissed two nights ago, after all, and he assumed their feelings were obvious.

It seemed that Kaycee had different plans and slipped her hand from his after a few seconds, instead drawing her wand from her pocket. "I've seen you with this, Harry. It's a different color, and this part down here," she ran her fingers over the handle, "is carved differently, but you have one." She stopped and looked right into his eyes. "What is going on?"

The question was simple, and yet Harry could not answer it. "I didn't know what was going on myself until yesterday. But after you showed me that place, and you and Matt found those, I finally understood. It's your brother's birthday today, and he is going to receive a special surprise that he wasn't expecting. I can explain everything then, but not before. You won't even believe me."

"I think I can believe a lot after everything that happened yesterday. Are you telling me that you know what happened?"

"I have a good guess," Harry replied. "Please trust me when I say it will be easier to explain everything when Matt gets his gift. You'll be getting one too, because of that." Harry pointed to the white wand in Kaycee's hands.

"So you want me to wait for just a few more hours?" she asked

"That's exactly it."

She looked towards the ground and continued walking. Harry once again followed her lead. "I suppose I can do that, if you answer one more question."

Harry frowned slightly, "I can't promise anything if it's closely related, but ask anyways."

"You said that you already found a gift yesterday for Matt and that you didn't need to go shopping for one anymore. Is that related to this?"

Harry smiled. "Yes, and I think he'll like his new present much better."

"Is what you're giving him the 'big surprise?'"

"No, he would have received it even if you had never met me."

Kaycee finally looked like her curiosity had been sated, at least temporarily. Harry's assumption was confirmed when she took his hand and led him back inside, where the rest of the family, and breakfast, was waiting.

Halfway through breakfast, Matt put down his fork and cleared his throat. "Ahem. As you all know, today I am eleven years old. It's not everyday that one turns eleven, and therefore this is a particularly special day for me. Becaue of that, I decided that today's activities be conceived, suggested, and approved solely by me and me alone. Thank you for listening." He went back to eating his toast. Kaycee and Harry looked at one another, wondering how Matt thought up even half of his random comments.

The rest of the day was indeed spent on activities that Matt thought up, suggested, and approved by himself, starting with video games in the living room. Harry, who had never played Mario Kart before, found that he thoroughly enjoyed the experience, even though he was repeatedly 'whomped' by Matt.

As Harry lost his fourth race, Matt said, "Come on, Harry. I don't like seeing you whomped any more than you do. You gotta pick up the slack!" Kaycee walked over to Matt and whispered something in his ear. A few seconds passed before he reacted. "I think I'm bored of winning too much, so I propose something that Harry might beat me at. A sword fight!"

Matt ran out of the living room and down to the grassy slope that lead down to the beach, pulling out the wand that had been given to him the day before. Harry looked over to Kaycee, who just shrugged innocently and followed Matt out of the door.

Stepping outside, Harry could see Matt with his wand out and ready like a sword. "That probably isn't a good idea!" Harry shouted down to Matt from the deck, thinking of all of the sparks that were likely to shoot their wands when things got too exciting.

"Come on Harry, you're from England! Didn't they have knights and stuff there?" Matt dropped into a predator-like stance, "En garde!"

Harry shrugged, there was nothing more that could be done. Putting his hands behind his back, he drew his wand and ran down the steps towards Matt.

"Woah! You got one too, Harry!" Matt said happily, then got serious again.

The two met in an epic clash of weapons. It was giant against dwarf, Goliath against David. Harry's sword locked with Matt's and the boy drew him in close, barring his fangs fiercely. Fangs? Was Harry having that much fun to think that he had seen fangs? They broke, and began circling each other. Waiting for a weakness to appear that they could use.

Kaycee stood on the sidelines, cheering the combatants and offering support to whomever she thought needed it, which usually was Matt. She called Harry a 'crazed monster' or 'blundering giant' more than a few times and Harry pouted at her playfully. She just smiled at him and continued with her outrageous insults.

"Don't look at her with your hypnotizing eyes, monster!" Matt shouted, and jumped in the air with a mighty shout. He brought his wand over his head and slashed down with it, intent on shattering Harry's defenses. As Matt landed, red sparks shot out of the tip of his wand with a bang and flew towards Harry, who covered his eyes and turned away from their intensity.

A silence settled over the three, broken only by Matt's heavy breathing. After a few seconds he said, "Well that was good, Harry! You put up a lot of fight this time, but I still whomped you with my secret weapon."

Harry stood there, legs wide apart and ready to run, wand at his side, looking from Matt to Kaycee. "Huh?"

Matt smiled at him. "Did you know that these things could do that? I found out last night. It was my secret weapon!"

"Your secret weapon," Harry repeated dumbly.

"Yep," said Matt cheekily. "Sneaky, huh?"

Harry just shook his head and chucked to himself. It was going to be a long day.

*

"You actually think that your mum is going to believe you?" Jacob asked skeptically as he crawled into the bed that was usually reserved for Harry.

"I don't think that she'll care with everything that is going to happen tomorrow," Ron replied as he pulled the covers over his head.

Jacob was still worried. "That's true, but I don't think she will believe I'm a friend from school if she's never heard of me."

"That's why Ginny and Hermione are going to say that they know you. Mum will believe us if we all have the same story." Ron flicked the lights off.

"Yeah, I guess." Jacob, his father, and the Weasleys and Hermione had talked for a long time behind the locked door, working out how they would contact each other and share information about the horcruxes. Jacob noticed how surprised the three were when his father had said that he had been able to find and destroy another horcrux besides the locket. Jacob and his father were amazed to hear Dumbledore's guess on how Voldemort had made seven horcruxes total, and how he would choose significant items to use as vessels for his soul.

"Seven!" his father had exclaimed. Seven was indeed a large number but it wasn't as daunting as it had first seemed. The diary, the ring, and the cup had been destroyed already. Jacob's father had said that the locket was in the possession of a trusted servant, and the other three had been narrowed down to Nagini the snake, an item of Ravenclaws, and another. When the children, including Jacob because he didn't know, asked where the locket was being kept, Black refused to answer. He said that they would try and destroy it together, but he didn't want them going to find it alone.

Something was still bugging Jacob. "Hey, Ron," he whispered.

"Ugh?" came a sleepy reply from across the room.

"You think they'll let me write to my dad?"

"Course they will," Ron said. "Now go to bed, I want to listen to the radio tomorrow morning. No one will worry very long about how you got here. Just say that we gave you the Floo address and everyone will believe you."

"If you think so," Jacob said, sounding unconvinced. "It's your family."

"It is, and I do say so. Go to sleep."

"But won't it be suspicious?"

Ron sighed tiredly, "Do you ever stop asking questions?" The tone wasn't a mean one. "If you keep acting the way you are then yes, they will be suspicious. But if you act like you are just sending a letter to you dad, who fought off the death eaters while you escaped and then wanted you to stay here to be safe, then no they won't be. Just act normally."

"Alright," Jacob said. Ron was probably right, they would only be suspicious if he acted strangely. But how was he supposed to act around all these people? There were too many to keep track of that he just wanted to sit in a corner and watch them all. His head would spin otherwise. Jacob had a hard enough time following the conversation shared by Ron, his girlfriend and Muggle-born Hermione (Jacob knew that his dad had to force back a scowl when he found out), and Ginny, the one that had been startled by his father's sudden appearance but was ready to fight. She sure did know how to throw a mean bat-bogey curse. "Good night."

"Night."

The next morning dawned bright and noisy as Mrs. Weasley walked into the room to find both beds occupied, "Harry! Harry you're back!" She ran over to give her adopted son a bone-crushing hug.

Jacob's head snapped off of his pillow as his pleasant dream was shattered by Mrs. Weasley's screams. "Harry's here? Where?" he said sleepily.

Mrs. Weasley fell backwards onto the floor and screamed even louder when she saw Jacob's face.

"What's happening?" yelled Jacob, jumping out of bed without a shirt on, "Where's Harry?"

Finally, a new voice spoke, "Mum, calm down! Harry's not here. This is Jacob." Ron had just woken up after Mrs. Weasley's second scream and was sitting up in bed, completely alert.

"Ron who is this?" Mrs. Weasley demanded, standing up and backing away from Jacob. "How did he get in here?"

"This is Jacob, mum. We met him last year at Hogwarts. He's a year younger than me and Hermione and in Ravenclaw, but we got to know each other through Quidditch."

"It's 'Hermione and I,' Ron," came Hermione's voice from the doorway. She stood with a sweater over her nightgown with Ginny next to her.

Mrs. Weasley was still breathing hard with her hand over her heart. She looked from Jacob, to Ron, to the calm appearance of the girls. "Do you girls know who this is?"

"Of course we do," Ginny said in a sweet voice. "Jacob is in my year. He's quite the Beater on Ravenclaw." She smiled warmly at him and Jacob laughed awkwardly.

"Oh well then, my heavens. I'm sorry for reacting like that dear, but I thought you were Harry. Your hair is the same color as his and, well..." she trailed off.

"We became pretty good friends with Jacob," Ron began, "And so we told him the address to the Floo here if he ever needed it. Death Eaters attacked his house last night and this was the first place he thought to go."

Mrs. Weasley was calmer now, and her eyes softened slightly as Ron told his story. "I'm sorry to hear that, dear. Is everyone in your family okay?"

"He's fine," Jacob said. "I live with my father and I've already received a message from him saying that he got out safely."

Mrs. Weasley nodded, "That's good to hear, then." She looked around at her children, her adopted daughter Hermione, and their friend Jacob. The new boy looked hungry. "Since I have you all here, get ready for breakfast. The announcement over the radio is going to start soon and I want everyone to be down to hear it. This is going to be a defining event for your generation." She looked at Jacob again. "It's good to have you here, Jacob. Feel free to stay as long as you need, and I'm sure your father could also stay if he needs to."

After Mrs. Weasley exited the room to prepare breakfast for the teens, Ginny and Hermione walked in and closed the door behind them. "That worked better than we thought it would," Ginny stated matter-of-factly. "Didn't even have to ask if you could stay, she just offered."

"Yeah," Ron said sadly, "I still feel bad about lying, though."

Hermione sat down on the bed beside him and hugged him tightly. "It had to be done, Ron." He just nodded.

Jacob noticed Ginny looking at him and he blushed, realizing that he still didn't have a shirt on. "Mum must really be distracted if she didn't care that we're in here," Ginny said.

Jacob's mouth just dropped open. He turned to find his shirt and his feet got tangled in the bed covers that had been thrown off the bed when he had gotten up. He fell to the floor, more embarrassed than he had been in a while.

"Come on, Hermione," Ginny said, giggling. "We should probably let the boys get dressed."

The girls left and the two boys got dressed quickly before traveling down the narrow staircase and into the kitchen. A man who Jacob assumed was Percy Weasley was sitting at the table while Mrs. Weasley was moving around the kitchen preparing breakfast. A small radio was in the middle of the table, playing music quietly. The girls weren't down yet, which was just find with Jacob. He would take all the time he could get to recover from his embarrassment.

"You must be Jacob," said Percy, looking at Jacob through horn-rimmed glasses. "Mum told me you escaped an attack through the Floo last night."

Jacob nodded.

"Good to have you here, then," Percy said.

"Aren't you supposed to be with Madam Bones at the announcement, Percy?" asked Ron.

"No, Minister Bones said that I could stay here. By going alone she gives the world the impression that our government is stronger than it actually is, with one Minister. I quite agree with her."

"You aren't Minister anymore?" Mrs. Weasley asked, shocked.

"Minister Bones and I will still work together, but officially she will be in charge. It doesn't matter very much to me."

Jacob noticed Ron's raised eyebrows at Percy's last comment. A quiet thumping from he staircase announced the arrival of the two girls, and it was much sooner than Jacob would have liked.

"Hello Percy," Hermione greeted him pleasantly. "You aren't with Madam Bones for the conference?" Percy shook his head and explained the situation to Hermione, who said after he was done, "That makes sense, since all the countries we want on our side also have one president, or minister, or whatever."

"Hello Jacob," Ginny said in an innocent tone. She sat down next to him and he felt color in his cheeks.

Berating himself silently for his reaction, he tried a reply, "Uhh, H-Hi Ginny." She smiled at him sweetly.

"Ginny, stop making Jacob so uncomfortable," Mrs. Weasley scolded before setting down a large plate of bacon, eggs, and toast in front of Jacob. "Don't mind her, dear. She can be a bit of a tomboy at times."

"When is Madam Bones due to start speaking?" Ron asked.

"Just a few minutes now, I think," Percy said. "I hope it goes well."

"We all do," Mrs. Weasley said, levitating more plates to everyone at the table.

"Yeah. It could be disastrous if it turns out everyone hates the idea of magic," Hermione said.

"Look at Harry's aunt and uncle," Ron agreed. "What if the world is full of Dursleys?"

Everyone present shivered with the exception of Jacob, who just looked confused. "Who are the Dursleys?"

"Harry's guardians when he's away from school," Hermione replied. "Completely horrible people, worse than you can imagine. He is never going to see them again, at any rate. It doesn't matter anymore."

Jacob didn't know what to say, but was about to attempt to stutter out an apology when the music on the radio suddenly cut out and was replaced by a man's voice, "Hello wizarding England. My name is Honus Kilpenger, owner of the Wizarding Wireless Network, and I felt that I should make an appearance, so to speak, before this monumental announcement is to take place and say a few words.

"Many years ago, when civilizations like Egypt and Greece were shining at the peak of their existence, wizards walked among regular men and women openly. We were held in high esteem, being advisors to kings and rulers, or respected because of the powers that we wielded. As the world grew, however, we shrunk back, hiding amongst each other in places protected by magic, so that we could avoid the rising persecution. Such have we lived for thousands of years, happy to live out our lives quietly, occasionally protecting the world from evil, such as we did during the reign of Grindelwald.

"Today marks a new chapter in the story of mankind. The tables have turned, and wizard kind is facing an enemy the likes of which we have never before encountered, and enemy which has just recently destroyed our most powerful warrior, and perhaps even the second most powerful if the rumors are true. Ladies and gentlemen, we are standing on the brink of destruction, a ledge that, once crossed, spells doom for our way of life, and perhaps that of the world. This ledge, which we cannot see, must be avoided at all costs. We must summon allies over to our cause from wherever we can.

"The allies that our beloved minister hopes to recruit today is already suspicious of our existence. They are not oblivious to the destruction our fight has caused, despite our attempts to cover their eyes. Muggles are a force worth recruiting, and I ask each and every witch and wizard to support our government in this endeavor.

The radio suddenly went quiet for a few seconds, during which everyone in the small kitchen let out the breaths they had been holding in. The radio crackled back into life, with Horus still at the microphone, "I've just been informed that the Muggle prime minister is stepping up the podium now, so we will transfer audio over now. Listen well, ladies and gentlemen, for every word that is spoken in the next few minutes will change history forever."

An odd squelching noise made everyone in the room look at each other with raised eyebrows, besides Percy, Jacob noticed. The man was staring that the radio with complete attention, his face not showing any emotion. The noise faded back and silence followed it.

Ron looked confused, "When is it-"

"Greetings, my fellow citizens," came a voice that could only be the prime minister's. "Never did I expect to make such a strange and important address, one so unbelievable and yet so crucial to continuing peace in the world. Many have believed the problems of late to be the works of terrorist groups unknown, but very recently, it has been brought to my attention exactly what we are dealing with. They are indeed terrorists, but of a sort that we never expected.

"All around the world, there are people who have lived in secret. A small group who, through some strange event, have skills and talents that do not seem possible. For years they have lived amongst us quietly, forming small communities and living out their lives peacefully. Very recently, one of their own became power-hungry, and collected followers to his cause, just as many terrorist groups do today. A war has started in their small society, and has grown to such as scale that it has spilled out into the world, a secret no more. This is what we have seen these past few months, their unique talents pitted against one another in the public eye, capturing the attention of the world.

"Our Ministry of Magic, the department that governs wizarding United Kingdom, has come to ask the world for help with fighting these terrorists. I now turn the podium over to someone who can explain in much better detail that I can; Minister of Magic, Madam Amelia Bones."

The wireless fell silent, and everyone in the room looked at each other with a sense of finality. "It's been done, no turning back now," Jacob said quietly.

A few others in the room nodded, and Ginny asked Percy, "What's going to happen now?"

Percy sighed heavily, his face looking too worn for its age, "Now Amelia is going to come up and give a more detailed narrative on the war, and about how her counterparts inside various magical departments around the world are giving the same address. Then she is going to request military and relief support. The States, as usual, have already pledged support and troops are flying over as we speak. Hopefully they will-"

"Be quiet!" Mrs. Weasley interrupted, "Amelia is speaking." Everyone fell silent to listen.

The radio piped up again, this time with the wise and imperial voice of Madam Bones. "On behalf of the magical population of England, I greet you," she began. "Throughout history in every culture, there are stories of the unexplainable and impossible. Stories that, while exciting, could never be possible. Witch doctors, shaman, and prophetic priests mingled with tribesman in Africa and the Americas, witches brewed potions and rode upon broomsticks in Europe, and Asian monks could use their bodies in ways that defied physics. While many of the details have been skewered through the years, all of these stories share one thing in common; they are based on fact.

"Today we refer to ourselves as witches and wizards, but they are just words that are not worthy of the misconceptions associated with them. Witches do not cackle or have warts, and they are not tools of evil spirits, for magical people follow all walks of life and religions, just as you do. The magical community is a peaceful one, existing out of the eyes of the world at large.

"While usually content to live quietly and peacefully, circumstances force us into a fight that should never have started. A wizard who styles himself as a dark lord named Voldemort, but is actually named Tom Riddle, has been terrorizing England for over two years now, gathering followers to his cause. He preaches hate and the cleansing of wizard kind in the same way that Hitler did many years ago. Normally, witches and wizards like him are dealt with quickly and decisively, but this situation is different. I come to you today on behalf of the magical community of England requesting for help. This war has been escalating and our government has been unable to hold his small but aggressive group back. The truth was bound to be discovered, and the world must know which side is right and which is wrong. Help your fellow citizens, and after this is all over we can work together to improve our world."

With Madam Bones finished speaking, the reporters were allowed to ask questions. Invariably, the first question was, "We've seen evidence of magic in the so-called battles that your group fights, Minister. Can we see something right now that leaves no doubt in our mind as to your truthfulness?"

Madam Bones answered, "While we normally do not enjoy flaunting magic or putting it on display, which is the very reason for our secretive nature, I believe that this justifies a bit of proof." The small group heard a rustling, most likely Amelia removing her wand from her sleeve. "This is a wand, the primary tool we use to perform magic. Sir," she said, referring the the reporter that asked the question, "I see you have an extra camera around your neck, just to be sure that nothing was set up ahead of time, could you hold it over head?"

"We figured that a levitation charm using something from the crowd would be the most effective proof," Percy said.

Madam Bones spoke again, "Thank you. Wingardarium Leviosa!" A few gasps and murmurs ran through the crowd as, presumably, the man's camera floated above their heads.

Suddenly, a rushing sound filled the wireless' speaker, like wind being forced through a long tunnel. It was quickly followed by loud microphone feedback and a thick thud. The impressed murmurs that had been running through the crowd turned into panicked screams, and two hated words filled the small kitchen right before the radio shut off, "Avada Kedavra!"

*

Regulus Black frowned as he poured through his fifth tome since he had broken into the magical hall of records. Famous magical artifacts were quite valuable items, many having powerful enchantments on them placed by their original owners, and were therefore meticulously tracked by the Ministry, much to the delight of Black. Relics from the four Hogwarts founders were perhaps the rarest, oldest, and most famous, so naturally the Ministry tried to keep track of these the most. Entire ledgers were devoted to the relics, tracking each and every owner over their thousand year lives. Naturally.

"Cup, ring, locket, diary," Black mumbled to himself, "Snake, Ravenclaw, and one more... maybe Gryffindor..." His eyes scanned line after line, page after page, detailing the various owners of three surviving Ravenclaw artifacts, a monocle that let the user see through walls, a quill that never wrote a lie or wrong answer, and a black cloak that gave the wearer knowledge "worthy of a Ravenclaw," as the ledger stated. It was law to report to the Ministry when a relic changed owners, and by the meticulously accurate records, it seemed that it was effectively enforced. Not a year was unaccounted for for the cloak and monocle, with current owners' names and addresses listed last. Black was currently looking over their records for the quill, which seemed to have a much more active life than the others, perhaps because of the enchantments placed on it. His eyes darkened as he reached the end of the pace, for the ledger said:

Ulgridch Fargarth 1902-1954, Fargarth Manor in Worcestershire. Aquired from his father upon his death.

Unknown owner 1954-Present?, unknown location. Stolen from Ulgridch Fargarth, who was murdered on the same day.

So Voldemort had stolen the quill and murdered the owner, just as the Weasley children and the muggleborn girl had told him was done with Hufflepuff's cup, Black thought. It seemed that Dumbledore's theory about the Dark Lord's selection process was correct. It was a relief to know that he (and the children who unfortunately knew) had a fairly accurate basis on which to search for the Horcruxes. The only problem now was to find where the quill was hiding.

He set the book in its proper place after casting a spell to transcribe the page detailing the quill's most recent history on another parchment and prepared to leave. After being there all morning, considering the fact that he was supposed to be long dead, he felt that his welcome had been overstayed. It would be disastrous if the Dark Lord got any word that he was alive and searching for founder's relics. Regulus was fairly certain that his old master would put his intentions together pretty quickly.

Wrapping an invisibility cloak (one that had been in the Black family for generations) around himself tightly, he set out, nudging the door to the archive room open slowly and sneaking out into the hallways for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Of course, there was no actual governance going on in the Ministry building anymore, not for a few months now, but security was still tight, protecting the building and whatever had been left inside. The corridors were dark, save for the occasional glowing light from the tip of a wand. Slowly, Black snuck through the narrow corridors, shimming up against walls and tucking in his stomach whenever a guard passed by.

He stepped quietly out of an elevator that he had boarded with an unwitting guard, careful to slip through the doors after the tired old wizard. The atrium was silent besides the echoing footsteps of the man in front of him, whom Black supposed was going home. A fireplace near him roared up, and Black's eyes opened in shock. Mad-eye Moody, auror extraordinare, stepped out of the fireplace and greeted the guard in front of Black.

"Whilden," he grunted as way of greeting.

The man Black supposed was named Whilden nodded to Moody and said, "Everything is quiet, Mad-eye. I'm going home."

Just then, Moody's radical blue eye spun forward and locked onto Black. "Is it now?" he asked quietly.

Black's wand was in his hand in a flash, his cloak falling from his body and into a pocket. "Stupefy!"

The red beam hit Whilden in the back and the man fell over without a fight. Black aimed his wand at Moody, but the old Auror was ready, as he always was. "Incarcerous!"

Black deflected the spell and ran towards the approved apparition point, a new security feature that had been added after Voldemort's attack on the ministry two years previous. Moody shot spell after spell at Black, trying to capture him. Luckily, they were all spells that could be blocked, and Black continued his sprint towards safety.

When he was only a few feet away from apparition point, hated words came from the old auror's mouth, who obviously knew that Black wouldn't be captured, "Avada Kedavra!"

Black dove forward, the red line on the ground teasing him with freedom. The sound of rushing wind came towards him but he didn't look back, for it would only destroy his concentration. He passed over the line and twisted in midair, turning the invisible corner to another place. Unseen forces clamped around his nose and eyes as he sped away from the atrium and towards Grimmauld place, leaving a very unhappy Mad-eye Moody to revive his fellow ministry guard.

The silence of Ron and Jacob's bedroom was broken by a loud crack! That was followed by a dull thud as Black hit the floor from his dive. The two boys pulled out their wands, but stowed them as they quickly realized who it was. Jacob jumped off of his bed and helped his father off the floor, who stood and brushed off his robes carefully. "I believe I've discovered the vessel of another horcrux, a quill belonging to Rowena Ravenclaw."

"Really?" Jacob asked, suddenly excited, "Where is it?"

"That I do not know, but this is still significant. It tells us that Albus' theory is correct." Black looked at the the two boys' faces. "You both look stricken. Did everything go well this morning?"

"Not at all," said Ron, shaking his head sadly. "They were attacked. No one is here besides us and my mum. Everyone is doing damage control."

"And the girls?" Black asked, noticing that they were missing.

"In the library," Ron replied, "Looking for more founders' artifacts."

"Father where is the locket?" questioned Jacob suddenly. "You said it was safe, so why don't we go get it now and destroy it? When would be a better time then now? Everyone is gone."

Black looked thoughtful, stroking his chin slowly. "Fetch Hermione and Ginny and we will discuss it."

Ron and Jacob nodded and left the room, closing the door behind them so that Molly wouldn't walk by and see a strange man inside her child's room. Black sat down in a newly conjured chair, pondering his next move. Should he tell them where it was hidden? He rubbed his arm, where the dark mark was still etched into his skin. The mark still acted up on occasion, itching or burning when a significant event in Voldemort's plan was happening. What was the old snake doing now? The itch in Black's arm did not subside as he scratched it, but instead grew into a steady burning. His eyes widened in shock as he realized what was happening. Voldemort had issued a full summons of all of his death eaters, and Black could only thing of one thing that would call for such a drastic move.

"The boy's been found..."

The door opened again with Ron and Jacob ahead of the two girls. They looked at him questioningly, wondering why he was back so soon. It seemed that Ron and Jacob hadn't thought it was safe to tell them with an eavesdropping-prone mother around. "Originally I came to tell you about another horcrux, but a much more pressing matter has arisen. All of the Dark Lord's death eaters were summoned just a minute ago." He pulled his sleeve upwards to reveal the mark, an ugly blemish on his skin. It shone bright black, vivid in its contrast to the creamy white around it. "There is only one reason I can think of for such a drastic move. Can any of you think of what it would be?"

Silence settled over the five for a few seconds. Hermione was the first to break the silence, "They found Harry."

Black nodded. "Most likely. Even if they haven't, a full summons is worth investigating, don't you think? There hasn't been once since his resurrection."

"We're coming with you!" Ron said defiantly. His hands balled into fists and he stood suddenly, anger flashing in his eyes.

"Of course you are," said Black calmly.

"Huh?" Ron asked, flabbergasted.

"I said, of course you're coming. Harry is pivotal to the war effort. He knows more about this horcrux business than anyone. It would be a tactical disadvantage if he died." Black looked at Ron as if he'd been born yesterday. "I thought you excelled at strategic planning."

"It's not that Mr. Black," said Ginny, speaking up, "Its just that we're used to being told to stay home or to stay at school. Adults never let us go out and be useful."

"And we would go and rescue him even if he didn't know about the horcruxes! He's our friend," Ron said as if it explained everything.

Perhaps it does, to him, Black thought. "Well," he said, picking up a quill, "Today is your lucky day. Portus!" The quill in his hand glowed blue for a second before calming down. He set it on the nearby bed stand and stood up. "That portkey will take you a hundred meters away from the area that the death eaters are apparating to. Be on the lookout for any buildings, for that will probably be the focus of attack." Black checked his watch. "It is still dark over on the American west coast. We are to rescue Harry and then leave. The odds are too overwhelming to stay and fight. Understand?"

Everyone nodded. "Good. I will go first and assess the situation. Once I deem that it is clear for you to activate the portkey, it will spin around once. Pick it up and stay quiet when you arrive. Jacob, how much of your potion do you have left?"

Jacob ran over to his bag and checked the potion. "I have enough for two people."

"That is good. Take one dose for yourself and give someone the other. Now, for the escape," Black rummaged through the nightstand to find four more small, random objects. Charming each of them, one by one, with the Portus spell, he handed them out. Ron received a horseshoe, which he immediately tucked into his largest pocket. "You are to find Harry and pull him away with the portkey as soon as you find him. If there are other innocents in the line of fire, and you won't be put into danger, get them away safely if you can. Only do that if Harry has already been rescued. Understand?"

They all nodded again, but somewhat less enthusiastically. "Our goal is to save Harry. Any others are to be considered and unexpected bonus. Don't go looking for people to rescue, or you may die for it." With that said, Black popped out of sight with a sharp spin, and the four teens were left alone.

"We should lock the door, Ron, so your mum doesn't come in to find us missing. She'll assume we're complaining that we were left here while everyone else was sent out." Hermione thought for a second longer in silence, "I'll lock our room too," she said. With that she dashed out of the door, closing it quietly behind her.

As soon as she left Ron got up and began to pace around. Jacob thought he looked like a caged lion. "Scared?"

"What?" said Ron, spinning to face him. "Of course not!"

Ginny walked over and sat beside Jacob. "Was this how you felt before you and your dad appeared in my bedroom?" she asked, indicating Ron.

"A bit, yeah," Jacob admitted. "We thought we were going right into enemy territory. It's good to be a bit anxious. Keeps you alert and on your toes."

Ron let out a deep breath and sat down on the bed opposite Ginny and Jacob. He gave them a peculiar look, and looked as if he was about to say something when Hermione came back in. She cast a strong locking charm on the door as she closed it. "All done. Has he given the sign yet?"

"Not yet," Jacob said. "Should be soon though, if I know him."

The quill seemed to be listening to their conversation for as soon as he finished speaking it turned slowly around in a complete circle. Everyone held their breath as it ground silently to a halt.

"Let's go," Ginny said quietly. Everyone nodded their consent and reached for the quill.

*

"Alright you three!" Jaclyn called from the cabin's back porch, "Its time for dinner!"

Harry followed Matt and Kaycee inside after a long day outdoors. The day was coming to a close and Matt still hadn't received his letter. The sun had just started to set over the horizon, so the day wasn't finished yet, but the fear that he wouldn't receive one crept into Harry's mind.

Matt reached the porch first, "Can I open my presents, mom?"

Jaclyn smiled at her son with a bit of joy in her eyes, "Not yet, honey. After dinner you can."

Matt nodded sadly and ran inside while Jaclyn waited for Harry and Kaycee to make their way up, side by side. She eyed them both with no small degree of suspicion. "Come on, best not to keep your brother waiting."

Dinner that evening was an enjoyable affair. Jaclyn had cooked Matt's favorite dinner, spaghetti and meatballs with sugar added to the sauce, and Harry thought it was just as good as Mrs. Weasley's cooking. Harry stopped himself from continuing the train of thought, knowing that thinking of the Weasley family too much would make him unpleasant during Matt's party.

After everyone had finished and the table was cleared, Jaclyn brought out a moderate pile of presents and set them in front of Matt's chair.

"Hold on one second," Harry said and ran into his room, returning with a long and thin package like two shoe boxes put side by side. "Open this one last," he said, hoping that Matt's owl would come as he was opening his other gifts.

The newly-turned eleven year old boy opened the largest gift first, from his parents reading the card he pulled out a few shirts and a sweatshirt, thanking his parents politely, and then looked back into the box. His eyes lit up as something much more desirable sat at the bottom, the video game he wanted and a board game that he had mentioned he liked. "Wow thanks!" he said happily. Setting everything aside, he turned to Kaycee's present, which included a few spy novels and new snorkeling gear which she had purchased with Harry when Matt complained that his fins had been getting too tight for him. "Awesome!" he exclaimed, "I didn't even think about ask-" he cut his words short as an owl few through an open window and landed on the table right in front of him, scattering the discarded wrapping paper.

"Shoo!" Jaclyn said, getting up quickly to push the bird out of the house.

"Mom, stop! There is something on its leg!" Jaclyn stopped in mid-swing, and the bird seemed to give a thankful hoot as it stuck out its leg for Matt to access. The scroll became clearly visible to everyone in the room. "It's addressed to me!" Matt said in wonder, slowly unrolling the scroll after he had untied it. The bird took flight out of the same window it had entered from, but Matt was focused solely on the scroll in his hands.

"What does it say?" Kaycee asked.

Matt just shook his head and gulped. "Here," he said, handing the parchment to Kaycee to read. Harry looked over her shoulder to see the letter for himself, slightly curious as to how it compared to his.

Dear Mr. Pearson,

Congratulations on your acceptance to Vangreeb School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed you will find a list of all items that you will need in the upcoming year. Term begins on September 1.

Sincerely,

Marcus Kilgore

Vice Principal

Harry looked upwards to see a shocked Matt holding another piece of paper, presumably the list of required items, and staring at him in shock. He smiled at the younger boy, "Well done, Matt."

Both Jaclyn and Steven looked at Harry, bewildered. They hadn't read the letter yet.

Silently, Kaycee handed it over to them, and while they read, asked, "Harry, what is this? What's going on?"

The two parents dropped the letter onto the table after they had finished with it, looking astonished. "What does this Marcus mean when he says 'wizard,' is that some kind of code?" Stephen asked.

"No, he means exactly what he says. Matt is special in the fact that he can perform magic, so he was accepted into, what was the school named, Vangreeb?"

"Yeah," said Matt quietly, "Vangreeb School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"There you go," confirmed Harry with a smile. "Your son is a wizard."

"How do you-" Jaclyn began, but then stopped. "Wait a minute... wasn't there something on the television about this?" She walked over to the living room and flipped to a news channel. "I didn't even pay attention to this earlier today, and I just shut it off."

Harry and the others followed her over, and he could hear the nightly newscaster in the middle of his top story, one that had apparently been running all day.

"The world is still reeling from the announcement made by multiple heads of state today, including our own president. Various officials have confirmed the claims to be true, and it seems that an entirely new social group has appeared out of thin air, literally in some cases. A magical community exists, one that is currently at war in Europe, which was shown by the assassination of the head of the magical government, whose name we are told is Madam Amelia Bones, during her speech. Representatives from our own newly revealed Department of Magic explain that she was killed by a magical spell aptly named the Killing Curse."

"Already, factions are forming concerning America's policy about the war in the United Kingdom. Some say that we know too little about the conflict, others suggest that in light of the assassination we know who the enemy is, and yet others demand that war is declared on all magical peoples, regardless their stance in the struggle..."

Jaclyn flipped the television off, and Harry quickly became aware that everyone was staring at him. At the moment he didn't care, however, because of what he had learned on the television. The statute of secrecy had been completely revoked and the entire world knew about magic! He tried to grasp exactly what that meant, but could not. Wizarding society had been changed, now and forever. The war had also escalated into a Muggle conflict. He wondered if Muggle soldiers had already landed in England, and what all of his friends were doing. Where they fighting alongside them, or were they in hiding?

"You're a wizard too, Harry," Kaycee said. Harry just nodded.

"So you knew about this war, but you brought our family into it anyways?" Stephen's question startled Harry even though he knew it was coming.

"No, Matt's talent is something that he came into himself. I had nothing to do with it. You finding me in the forest was pure coincidence. Of course, now you know the real reason why I was hurt pretty badly. There was an accident while I tried to travel, and ended up getting thrown out of the port halfway around the world."

"Port?" Kaycee asked curiously.

"Yeah, a tunnel that is created using an object called a portkey. It is one way in which we can travel between two places almost instantly."

"This war," Stephen asked seriously, his eyes drilling a hole into Harry, "How serious is it?"

Harry sighed, "Very serious. If something isn't done soon, England is going to fall, and the rest of Europe won't know what hit them. This isn't the first time that Voldemort has brought us into war. He was killed in a way, seventeen years ago, but now he's back, and only England has fought him before."

"What do you mean he died, in a way?" Jaclyn asked.

Harry shook his head and looked down, hoping that he wouldn't have to tell them everything. "He was ripped from his body, but regained it recently with the help of his servants."

"And is it possible that our family could be pulled into this war?" Harry's head sagged even more, and he saw Stephen's eyes widen in shock. "Voldemort thinks that witches and wizards that come from non-magical families like yours are the worst kind of person. If the war spreads here, every family like yours will become a target."

A warm hand touched Harry's arm softly, and he looked up to see Kaycee smiling at him. He was about to thank her for support, but Stephen interrupted before he could say anything, "Kaycee, Get away from him!" The warm hand reluctantly removed itself and Stephen's glare turned on Harry. "You stayed here as our guest, knowing full well that you could bring my family into danger. You're no longer welcome here. I will drive you to the airport tomorrow morning, but that is as far as my hospitality goes."

"Dad, that's not fair!" Kaycee said angrily. "He couldn't say anything until Matt got his letter!"

"It does matter when we could be brought into a war Kaycee, and I told you to get away from him!" Kaycee had just grabbed onto Harry's arm again, moving up against his side.

"No dad, you saw on the television, everyone knows now anyways. Harry had nothing to do with that, and you shouldn't be taking your fear out on him!"

"I am scared, Kaycee," Stephen said, "But for my family, not myself. Now, this is settled. Tomorrow we can put all this nonsense behind us."

"What about my letter, dad?" Matt asked quietly, still clutching the scroll of parchment from Vangreeb.

"As I said, we will be putting all of this nonsense behind us. All we know about these 'wizards' is that they're fighting amongst each other. I won't have any of us be a part of that." Stephen glared at Harry as he said wizards, as if asking why Harry was one, accusing him of it as if it was a nasty thing.

Jaclyn, who had been silent the entire time, finally spoke up, "I think you should calm down, dear. Harry is too young to be involved in the war. He isn't putting us in any danger by being here."

Stephen shook his head, "You heard him, if we involve ourselves in any way we become targets. Just his being here with us is making a connection. No, Harry, you'll be going to the airport first thing tomorrow. That is final."

Harry nodded glumly, knowing that Stephen spoke the truth better than he knew. He still remembered that night which seemed long ago, when Voldemort had invaded his dreams and found the image of Kaycee in his mind. Harry was Voldemort's first target, and anyone associated with him was put on the list right behind him. "It's fine, Mr. Pearson, I can leave now." Harry drew his wand, and Stephen flinched back as he realized what it was. "Don't worry, I need this to leave. Just do me one favor, don't let this sour your view towards the wizarding world." With that, Harry focused on his destination and prepared to turn the invisible corner when the cracks! of a dozen apparitions broke the peaceful silence of the night forest.

Harry froze, not wanting to believe the sounds that had just invaded his ears. "They're here," he whispered. Pain shot through his scar like hundreds of needles piercing his skin up and down in waves. It was too late for him to leave. They had already found him. His hand went up to his forehead as he scratched it fervently, alleviating some of the pain. Unlike before, the pain was at a manageable level.

An icy chill swept through the small living room, one that Harry was all to familiar with. His breath fogged the air and his hair stood on end, protesting his body's sudden loss of heat. The presence of dementors confirmed that it was indeed Voldemort's forces outside, and not any friendly wizards.

"Who?" Stephen demanded, growling. "Who is outside, boy?"

"The enemy. Voldemort and his death eaters." Harry was disbelieving. He looked at the wand still in his hand from when he was about to disapparate, but other than that had a hard time moving. The death eaters were here and they were going to kill Kaycee and Matt!

"Harry," came Kaycee's voice, "What should we do?"

Looking up from the wand in his hand he saw Kaycee looking at him, her question still on her face. Harry's reverie was broken and his mind sprung into action, assessing possible situations and outcomes, creating the path that most likely led to the Pearson family escaping with their lives.

"Mr. Pearson, you need to get your family down to your boat. Head into town from there and go to the market. It should still be open. Wait there for me and then I can get you out of danger. Don't let any spells hit you or the boat. They look like beams of light." Harry looked at the front door, "They want me mostly, so if I make myself visible they should forget about you. I can delay them while you escape and then I'll meet up with you, do you understand?"

"Harry, no! They'll hurt you, won't they?"

Harry looked at Kaycee and smiled humorlessly, "I'm a bit more involved in the war than I wanted to tell you. I can take care of myself. I can hold them off for a while, and by then your Aurors should arrive." Harry looked at Stephen, "There's no more time, you have to go!"

The tall, broad man nodded and ushered his family out onto the back porch, ignoring the struggles and objections of Kaycee. Then Stephen moved briskly to an obscure door in the hallway and opened it, revealing a shotgun hung up on a rack near the ceiling, out of the reach of his children. He removed the gun and also took a box of shells from the shelf above.

Harry nodded in approval. "They won't realize that is a threat until after you kill a few of them. Don't hesitate to use it if they get close to you."

Stephen looked shocked at Harry's words, "This really is a war, isn't it?"

"Yes," Harry replied, "Now go!"

A resounding boom came from the front door and the living room was instantly filled with dust and debris. Harry was knocked off of his feet and over the couch. He got up slowly, coughing violently and rubbing his ringing ears. Through the almost deafening din, he could hear the shouts of a group of death eaters pouring through the newly created hole where the Pearson's front door used to be. Looking around Harry saw Mr. Pearson behind a large stuffed chair, loading red shells into the bottom of his shotgun. The two looked at each other and Mr. Pearson gave harry a nod, which he returned.

"Diffindio!" Harry's spell shot through the dust towards the attackers, perhaps ten in all, in a long, sweeping arch that mocked his wand movement. Some of the white masks were tinged with pink as the men behind them brought up shields, others were not as Harry's spell ripped into their midsections, pouring out warm blood. Half of the death eaters fell, and the five remaining returned fire. Harry ducked behind his couch and cast a shield on himself, deflecting any spells.

Harry moved to return fire, but was shaken by a hollow crack! that came from his left. Stephen had risen from his hiding spot and fired upon the death eaters. The large man pumped the handle and fired again. The five men fell to the ground as they were peppered with shot, blood oozing out of dozens of holes in their bodies.

All was silent for a few seconds, but then Harry felt another wave of cold sweep through him, much stronger than before. He summoned up his happiest feeling, kissing Kaycee on the dock, and cried, "Expecto Patronum!" A huge stag galloped out of the house, moving through the walls like a ghost, towards the unseen dementors. Hair-raising shrieks came from the dark forest as the dementors were pushed back. Harry silently thanked Prongs as he watched his Patronus, barely visible through the settling dust in the living room.

"Let's go, before they take down the whole house!" Harry called to Stephen. He received another nod and Stephen headed towards the back door. Harry summoned his trunk and removed his broomstick before quickly shrinking it again. He would need to cover the Pearsons as they got to a hiding place where Harry could spend enough energy and concentration to create a Portkey.

Out in the darkness he saw other silvery shapes join Prongs in fighting the dementors. Shouts of surprise from the death eaters arose from the trees. Spells began flying, lighting up the forest in shades or red, blue, green, and yellow. Were the American Aurors that quick in their response?

"Phasma Hominis!" Harry said, and the living room was filled with shimmering motes of dust. Figures appeared and flitted around the room like children playing in the fog. Whispers filled the air, drowning out the shouts, incantations, and eerie shrieks coming from outside. Even though he had cast it dozens of times before, the spell still made Harry feel uneasy. Nevertheless, he was sure it would stop any death eaters from moving through the house for a while.

The engine of the Pearson's boat roared to life from the lakeside and Harry pulled himself away from the ghostly figures, towards the water's edge, and out onto the dock with his broom in hand.

"Harry! What happened in there? Get in so that we can go!" Kaycee looked at him, pleading in her eyes. Why did she care so much, Harry thought to himself. What was it that attracted a beautiful girl like her to him, a troublemaker that put her family in danger? Whatever it was, Harry didn't want to lose it.

"You go ahead, I'll follow you on this so and protect you," he said, gesturing to his broomstick.

"Harry, what do you mean? That's just a-"

"Go!" Harry said, interrupting her confusion.

Stephen, who probably learned to trust Harry's words, put Kaycee into a seat and pushed the throttle forward. The boat surged forward and out into the water, the wind kicking up Kaycee's gleaming hair.

There was nothing for Harry to do but look back towards the now half-destroyed cabin, sigh, and mount his Firebolt in pursuit of his charge.

*

Ron Weasley landed on his feet as he appeared in a dark forest next to Hermione, who was on her bum. He gave his girlfriend a smile and helped her up off of the ground. "Landing wasn't very smooth?" he asked lightly.

"Not really," she replied, "Are Ginny and Jacob here?"

"Yes we're here," Jacob's voice came from next to them.

"This is kinda cool!" Ginny's voice piped in. "I wish I had an invisibility cloak so I could do this whenever I wanted."

"Yeah," Ron said, thinking of all the times that he and Harry had hidden under the cloak, getting through situations that would have otherwise proved impossible.

Pine needles crunched underneath Jacob's invisible feet as he stepped around, being quite undetectable otherwise. The potion that his new friend crafted was quite effective, and Ron saw no blur or outline where he knew Jacob to be. "See anything yet?" Jacob asked somewhere from Ron's right side.

"No," Ron replied, his ears and eyes straining into the darkness. Suddenly, a faint but unmistakable boom rang through the trees. "You hear that? Where did it come from?" The trees disguised the origin of the explosion, sound reverberating from every direction off of the trunks.

"Dunno," Jacob said, "Wait... Listen." Distant shouting reached Ron's ears and he was forcibly reminded of the Forbidden Forest. The ancient wood seemed to whisper to anyone who listened; dark secrets that were never fully understood.

"Sounds like something is already happening," he said, "Let's go check it out." The four, two see and two unseen, moved towards the shouting voices carefully, not wanting to give away the element of surprise. As they moved up a steep slope, a cold dread swept over Ron, and he shivered involuntarily.

"Anyone else feel that?" he asked in a whisper, sitting down just before the crest of the hill. Hermione nodded vigorously, and Ginny and Jacob both affirmed Ron's question with quiet yeahs. "Dementors?"

"I think so," Ginny said shakily from somewhere beside him, reminding Ron of how she acted in cabin of the Hogwarts Express all those years ago. "I'll go look and see." Pine needles crunched under Ginny's light step as she moved up and over the crest, looking with her invisible eyes down the other side.

Everyone was silent as Ginny checked the voices when the forest canopy above them was suddenly bathed in silvery light. The underside of the pine needles were bathed in silver light, and inhuman shrieks from the other side of the hill made Ron's ears ring. He barely heard Ginny's footsteps return.

"Harry's over there! His stag ran out of a house and started attacking the dementors. We have to help him!"

Ron nodded, "Alright, everyone get ready to cast your Patronus over towards the dementors. We can't let Prongs have all of the fun." Everyone moved to the top and poked their head over. "Can you do this spell, Jacob?"

"Of course," he said, as if every teenager should be proficient at it.

Maybe everyone should be, Ron thought, looking down at the gruesome scene before him. Prong's light lit up the area below, revealing a few dozen death eaters in front of a house with a gaping hole in the wall. Perhaps ten feet away from the cabin were the bodies of five death eaters, bathed in generous amounts of blood. Screams, yells, and shrieks filled the night air, contrasting the peaceful lake that Ron could see stretching out in every direction on the far side of the cabin. Dementors were gliding around the slope, trying to flee from the huge stag, while the death eaters were trying to stay clear of the dementors as they passed by. It was chaos, and Ron hoped to add just a bit more to the mix. "Okay, good. On my count, three, two, one!"

Four fully formed patronuses galloped, slithered, and bounded down the slope, set on hunting their natural prey. Ron ducked back over the slope before any of the death eaters spotted him, and Hermione did likewise.

"Ron, you and Hermione go and find Harry. Ginny and I can distract these death eaters. Just a few well placed curses should make them start firing randomly, scared as they already are."

"But how do I get around all of them?" Ron asked, indicating the death eaters over the hill with his thumb. "Where should I start looking for him?"

"If I was him, I would go the other way," mused Jacob. "He has a broomstick, doesn't he? It wouldn't be hard to escape over the lake, especially with a Firebolt. Nothing would catch him."

"That's true," Ron said, "But how do I get over there?"

"Just go around, Ron." Ginny said emphatically. "I doubt anyone will notice you, not with the scene that those horrible creatures are making down there. The idiots down there must be new recruits, because they haven't done anything right so far. Looks like Harry took out five or six all by himself."

Ron nodded his agreement and moved to his feet, pulling Hermione with him. "Wait," she said, "I want to try something I've been practicing with Percy." She moved her wand up over Ron's head and brought it down sharply, rapping him on the head. A thick liquid seemed to flow down his skin, similar to the consistency of a milkshake. "Disillusionment Charm," Hermione said by way of explanation. After casting it on herself, they were off, bidding their invisible friends good luck.

"If you get into trouble, just get out of here. We can find Harry, and Mr. Black is looking for him too." With that said, the pair set off, carving a large path around the death eaters, who were now beginning to get a hold of themselves.

Apparently, Ginny and Jacob thought it was getting too quiet, because a multitude of curses and hexes began flying from the hilltop they had just left. The shouting picked up once again, and spells began flying around in the group, aimed at everything and anything.

With little need to be overly quiet, due to Ginny and Jacob's rather effective diversion and Hermione's disillusionment charms, they soon reached the backyard of the cabin, which was nothing more than a clearing of the forest nestled in between a back porch and the shoreline. Ron motioned for Hermione to stop, and they crouched behind a large pine on the perimeter of the clearing, out of sight of a group of death eaters sitting on the dock.

"Got any extendibles?" Ron asked in a whisper. Hermione's barely visible outline shook her head. "Alright, we need to get closer then." The two crept around the tree line towards the dock. Gradually, the death eater's voices became intelligible.

"The boy is trying to escape over the lake, along with the muggle family," a man said.

A woman replied, her voice filled with an insane glee. "Just as the Dark Lord predicted. Potter didn't even test the anti-apparition wards, being foolish enough to want to save them." Bellatrix, for Ron couldn't mistake the voice that had spoken, seemed to be bouncing on the balls of her feet. Looking out onto the lake Ron could see a boat flying across the surface, accompanied by a single flier which had to be Harry, highlighted by the bright moonlight.

"Are the others coming?" another asked.

"They seem to have been delayed," Bellatrix replied. "It is no matter, the Master will punish them for their failures. Let us make chase and flush the boy to the other side of the lake. I want my piece of that pitiful town the Master promised to us after we get the boy." Each of the six death eaters, Bellatrix included, revealed a broomstick from their robes and mounted them. From next to him, Hermione moved to get up and attack before they could take chase after Harry, but Ron held her back.

"Wait!" he whispered urgently, "There's others coming."

As Bellatrix and her group of death eaters took off, three stragglers ran out from the inside of the house, stumbling and looking rather haggard. They too removed broomsticks from their robes, and ran out onto the wooden dock, only a short distance from their hiding place.

"Now! Impedimenta!"

"Stupefy!"

The two spells flew true, and struck the death eaters they were aimed for. The third, surprisingly quick on his feet, dove forward and cast a blackish-purple spell as he rolled. Before either of them could react, the spell hit Hermione's blurred form, canceling the disillusionment charm as she fell.

"No, Hermione! Sectumsempra!" In a flash of bright light, the death eater's throat spilled open under his mask. He fell to the wood with a thick thud and rolled into the water, gurgling and choking on his own blood. After a quick stupefy! to the slowed death eater, Ron turned towards Hermione.

"Hey," he said, shaking her shoulders slightly, "Are you alright? Can you hear me, Hermy? Please don't be dead!"

"Ron? Are you there?" Hermione's eyes fluttered open, searching the night. Ron gasped, for her pupils were completely missing, replaced by an expanse of useless white tissue like the rest of her eyes. "Ron, I can't see you, where are you?"

"I'm here, babe. Look, I'm here." He touched her cheek gently, staring into her pale face. "I need to get you back to headquarters so Madam Pomfrey can look at you."

"Ron, I can't open my eyes."

"I know, that's why we need to get you back."

"No, Ron. I can go back myself. I don't need to see to activate a portkey. See, I can even stand." Slowly, Hermione sat up, her white and featureless eyes scanning the shoreline uselessly. "Now I'll be fine. Your mum is still at headquarters and she can get Madam Pomfrey for me."

"But-"

"Go, Ron! You need to help Harry before he reaches the other side of the lake!"

Ron stood as Hermione pulled her portkey out and vanished, moving towards one of the dropped broomsticks. He picked up a Nimbus 2000, and jumped into the air, sliding it underneath him as he took off. The boat was a good ways away by now, but the Nimbus would easily catch up to it. The other riders were another matter entirely, however, and were fast approaching the boat and Harry. Ron pushed his new broomstick as fast as it could go, lying flat against the handle and squinting his eyes against the wind as he picked up speed.

A yellow flash of light came from the wand of the first attacker, down towards the boat. Harry's dark figure swooped down and blocked it and returned the red beam of a stunner, which struck true. The death eater fell off of his broom and struck the water, skipping off of the surface a few times before finally succumbing to its wet fingers, sinking down into its depths. Ron knew that he would suffocate within a few minutes.

Ron stayed flat against the broom, gaining on the group even as they overtook the boat. As they passed overhead in chase of Harry the driver picked up a long stick, pushed one end against his shoulder, and aimed it towards the death eaters. A flash of light and resounding boom! came from the other end, and a second death eater fell off of his broom to the water below.

So that's what a fireleg does, Ron thought to himself as the death eaters retaliated. They each cast a green curse towards the driver of the boat. Three fell short, not leading the pace of the boat enough, but the third met the driver head-on just as he used the fireleg again. The green beam of the killing curse was split into a dozen smaller beams when the man fired at it, branching out and entombing his body like an emerald crypt. While most of the curse hit the man in the side, a few had branched out enough to strike the person in the passenger seat. He was thrown over the side of the boat, dead before he hit the water, while the passenger slumped over and fell to the floor, their fate unknown to Ron. The boat's engine quieted, and it skimmed silently over the glassy surface of the lake.

Ron released a roar of rage and brought his wand up, aiming it at the death eater nearest him, "Stupefy!" His spell went wide, soaring off into the night. "Impedimenta!" His second spell hit the death eater in the back, slowing him to almost a halt.

Ron flew past him at a blistering rate and reached to grab the cloak of the next death eater. Ron rolled off of his broom, keeping a firm grip on the black robes, and pulled the death eater down with him before he even realized it. Ron's weight triumphed over the man's grip, and he was tugged downwards by sheer force. When the man lost grip of his broom, Ron released the robes and reseated himself, only paying partial attention to the splash a short distance below him.

Harry, probably realizing that he had help, reversed his direction and flew directly at the lead death eater, shimmering a strange red color. They both collided, and the death eater was unseated and propelled backwards as Harry flew right into him, apparently unaffected.

The last death eater blocked both spells sent by the boys and cackled madly. It was Bellatrix. "Too late, Potty! Look, the Dark Lord approaches!" In the distance behind Harry, Ron could see a dozen brooms flying towards them, all ridden by black robed death eaters. Voldemort was leading the pack, his red eyes glowing in the darkness.

"Harry!" Ron called desperately, "Get to the boat! Portkey!"

Instead of answering, Harry shot his Firebolt forward, towards Bellatrix, who immediately cast the Cruciatus Curse. Harry easily dodged the yellow beam, diving down suddenly, and once again flashed a strange red as he turned upwards and slammed into Bellatrix. She let out a bloodcurdling screech as she was unseated and flew upwards. At the peak of her ascent, she twisted awkwardly in the air, disapparating as her momentum came to a halt.

Harry flew towards the boat, which had stopped and was slowly drifting away in the mild lake currents.

Ron turned and caught up with Harry in his decent.

"Ron! What are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you! What do you think? I have a portkey and we can get everyone on that boat back to headquarters with us!"

Harry nodded and slowed to a stop next to the boat, Ron next to him. A girl about his age ran over to the side to greet them, while a younger boy that looked to be eleven stayed in his seat holding the hand of a woman on the floor that was probably their mother. He assumed the man that had been hit by the Killing Curse was their father.

"Harry!" The girl said, where's my dad? What happened to him?"

"What happened to Mom?" The young boy asked. "Is she going to be okay?"

"I don't know right now," Harry replied. "But I have to get you out of here. More people are coming, and we can't stay here."

"Can you drive a boat?" the girl asked. "We have to go back for dad, this green thing hit him and he fell over the side!"

"Harry," Ron said quietly, "It was Avada Kedavra. A small sliver hit her too."

Harry looked at him sharply before nodding. "We can't worry about your dad right now. Let's get your mom some help, first. She needs it right now."

Ron pulled the horseshoe out of his pocked at hopped into the boat. The girl moved away from him with a small scream of fear. "It's alright," Ron said soothingly, "I'm Harry's friend, Ron."

Harry jumped into the boat, eying the quickly approaching broomsticks. "Ron, we need to get out of here now, before they can stop us. Where's the portkey?"

"Right here," he replied waving the horseshoe around before hooking it to the mother's limp hand. "Everyone grab hold."

The girl and her brother looked to Harry, asking him what to do. Harry nodded assuringly, "Go ahead and grab it." They did, and Harry took it too.

"Potter!" came a snakelike voice from the distance. "You will not escape, Potter! Stay here and face death!"

"No one let go, we're leaving," Ron said, ignoring Voldemort's attempt to keep them in the boat. "Three, two, one..."

The world around Ron vanished in a swirl of bright color and sound as he was whisked halfway across the world, along with the rest of the occupants in the boat.


	9. Chapter 9

Harry reappeared along with the others in his bedroom at Grimmauld Place, where a very distraught Molly Weasley was waiting for them.

"Ronnie! Harry! Oh you're both safe! After Hermione appeared, and her eyes, I was worrying myself sick." Seeing Ron's stricken expression, Molly said, "I've already taken her over and she's explained some of it to me, while Madam Pomfrey was looking at her nonetheless, brave girl." She swept up both boys with a crushing hug, holding them tightly as if she hadn't seen them for years. "Don't you ever do that again!"

"Mum!" Ron said, "We need to get someone to Madam Pomfrey." Jaclyn was on the ground, eyes closed peacefully and unmoving.

Molly, who just seemed to be noticing that Kaycee and Matt were kneeling by their mother, nodded briskly. "Let's get down to the kitchen, then. We can go to Hogwarts from there. Don't you two dears worry, your mother will be well taken care of." She gave the two unknown children a smile and flicked her wand causing Jaclyn to float into the air and out of the room.

"Where are you taking her?" Kaycee asked fearfully.

"To the healer at Hogwarts, dear. There is already a center set up there for injuries from the battle this morning. It was our worst yet." Molly shook her head sadly and followed Jaclyn's unmoving form into the hallway.

"Come on," Harry said, "Let's follow your mum, you can stay with her until she sees a healer. That's what we call doctors."

Kaycee and Matt nodded, moving towards the door. Matt sniffed and his eyes started to shine with tears, so his big sister moved her arm around his shoulder, comforting him, and sent a significant look at Harry before following Mrs. Weasley towards the kitchen. Sighing sadly, Harry also left, Ron following him closely. He knew that Kaycee would demand answers as soon as she saw Jaclyn to a hospital bed.

Molly went ahead with Jaclyn, leaving Harry and Ron to show Matt and Kaycee how to use the Floo. Shock probably stopped either of them from doubting Harry's explanation of how fireplaces were used to travel, and they were soon traveling through the network towards Hogwarts.

Harry went third, and stumbled out of the fireplace in the great hall, partially commandeered off for use as a trauma center from that morning's battle. Other beds stood against the walls filled with dozens of people. Matt and Kaycee stood in front of him, and he moved up to meet them. The fireplace flashed into life behind Harry and spit out Ron, who quickly joined his side. "Let's go find your mum, yeah?" Harry asked.

They both nodded and Harry moved towards the other side of the Great Hall, towards the arranged beds. Besides the footsteps of a few Healers and the sporadic coughing of the injured, the hall was eerily quiet. They passed sleeping men and women in various conditions, taking in the seriousness of the war. It had only grown bloodier since the Battle of Hogwarts, and even Harry had never before seen so many people injured by war.

"Blimey," Ron said articulately.

Harry silently agreed. Now with the announcement the casualties were only going to increase. No matter what purebloods said, Muggles did a few things better than wizards. Fighting wars was one of them.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, over this way please." McGonagall stepped from behind a few curtains that separated a small area against the wall from the rest of the Great Hall. Kaycee and Matt ran over, sensing that their mother was behind the curtains, followed shortly by Ron searching for Hermione. As Harry rounded the curtains, he saw two beds pushed up against the wall with a very tired-looking Molly Weasley in a chair between them. Matt and Kaycee rushed over to their mother's side, where Madam Pomfrey was already examining her, and Ron was holding Hermione's hand as she slept, her eyes closed peacefully. Harry was unsure of whom to go to first, but made up his mind when he saw Kaycee's hands shaking. He could only imagine the depth of the rabbit hole that Kaycee was falling into, her normalcy ripped from her within the span of two hours.

Moving alongside of her, Harry put his arm around her waist, giving her a comforting touch that he knew she needed. "Harry," she asked quietly, "Where is my dad?"

Ron's eyes moved to Harry's, and he gave a slow shake of his head. "Kaycee, that green spell your dad was hit with is called the Killing Curse. He's dead."

Silence filled the small area as Kaycee and Matt took in the news of their father's death. Everyone was silent, Molly looking at the two children with sadness in her eyes, Ron looking old and tired, and McGonagall standing off to one side with concern written on her face.

Matt began to cry again, but not with the silent tears he had shed in the boat. All of the grief and stress he had been put through poured out of him in a loud wail. Kaycee hugged him fiercely, moving free of Harry's arms, and Molly sprang into action.

"There, there, dear," she said kindly, the practice of years of mothering kicking in, "Just cry now." Molly also bent to hug Matt so that loving faces surrounded him and kept him safe from the reality of the world. The three stood there for a few minutes, and there was no other movement besides Madam Pomfrey's relentless care of Jaclyn and Ron's thumb slowly running over Hermione's hand as he sat at the edge of her bed. Matt began to quiet, and Molly pulled away to take a mug off of the table next to her chair. "Here, dear, have some tea. It will help you," she said kindly, handing him the mug, "It's sweetened, so you'll like it just fine."

Matt nodded, trusting Molly within the span of a few minutes, just as Harry had done on their first meeting and drank the tea down. Harry knew that it had some sort of calming potion, as Mrs. Weasley's tea always did in these circumstances, and smiled at the trust he showed when he gulped it down.

Mrs. Weasley led Matt over to her chair and he sat down, his tears finally spent. Kaycee, who hadn't cried or shown any emotion after being told that her father had been killed, turned to Harry again. "Is my mom going to live? She was hit with the same... thing."

Harry looked to Madam Pomfrey, who was apparently listening in, "It is too early to tell you for sure, but I am hopeful. Your mother is stable. Her soul took quite a hit when a finger of the Killing Curse struck her, and may just need time to recuperate."

Kaycee nodded sadly and took her mother's hand. Harry moved to her again and put his arm around her, attempting to support her and relieve some of her pain. Kaycee did not pull away this time, and rested her head against his shoulder. "Come on," Harry said after a few minutes, "We should go to bed. Matt is already sleeping."

"I don't want to leave my mom."

"We're just going to go up to the dorm rooms. This is my school, where we learn magic. If anything happens, Madam Pomfrey will get us. We can come back first thing tomorrow and I will answer anything you want."

Kaycee turned looked right into Harry's eyes, trying to ascertain his truthfulness. At first, Harry was tempted to turn away, to not see the pain that he had carried into her life, but forced himself to keep contact. Finally, after an eternity contained within a few seconds, Kaycee allowed him to lead her away from her mother's side and towards the entryway of the castle.

Ron kissed Hermione on the cheek and bade her a quiet goodnight, picked up Matt on Mrs. Weasley's request, and followed Harry and Kaycee out of the hall. The four traversed the many staircases and passageways towards Gryffindor tower in silence, the torches lighting as dusk gradually overtook the castle.

The portrait of the Fat Lady swung open for them without a password and the quartet moved into the common room, where Ginny and a strange boy had sleeping bags set out for everyone.

"Harry!" Ginny said. "You're safe! We came back as soon as it got too dangerous for us out there. And then Hermione came back- we were so worried."

Harry gave her a small smile, "Hi Ginny. We'll all get caught up tomorrow, but I think it's time for everyone to get some rest for tonight," he said with a wayward glance at Kaycee, who seemed to be almost catatonic with weariness. "Everyone grab a bag." They all did without argument, which surprised and pleased Harry. All he was concerned about right now was Kaycee and Matt; any questions would wait for as long as they had to.

Kaycee took the bag next to her brother and moved up alongside of him, and away from Harry. A small twinge of sadness and disappointment sprang from the back of Harry's mind, but he quashed it relentlessly. Thoughts like that were irrational right now. Of course Kaycee and Matt would band together when they were along in this strange new world. Even he, Harry, had become a stranger to them.

With a sigh Harry snuggled into his sleeping bag and the common room lights went out, leaving only the flickering fire to give them light.

*

Harry awoke early the next morning, despite having only a few hours of sleep, to find a strange man sitting on the couch, watching them all sleep. Acting on instinct he quickly rolled over and unsheathed his wand as he sat up, pointing it at the strange man. "Who are you?" Harry hissed angrily.

The man held one finger to his lips and shushed Harry, pointing to the five other sleeping occupants. "You wouldn't want to wake them so early, would you?" he whispered." It's only been three hours since you've arrived and everyone has been through a terrible ordeal."

"Who are you?" Harry asked again, tightening the grip on his wand.

The man held up his hands in a placating manner. "I am Jacob's father," he explained, pointing to the unknown boy that was sleeping curiously near Ginny. "However, you probably know me better by name. I am Regulus Black."

Harry's mouth fell open, his mind trying to put together the significance of the man's words, "But... you're dead. Aren't you?"

The man chuckled quietly, being careful not to disturb the sleeping children. "Not dead, just hiding, working in secret."

"It can't be," Harry said determinedly. "If you're really Regulus, then you would know why you're so important."

The older man, who Harry had to admit looked very much like Sirius, smiled faintly, "I'm glad to see that you are being cautious, checking my identity. 'Constant vigilance,' indeed." The man took a breath and continued, "My presence is significant because you took a gift of mine that was intended for my old master. A fake Horcrux, to be exact, in the shape of a locket, out in the middle of an underground lake filled with Inferni. Is that specific enough for you, Harry?"

Harry let out a breath and nodded, but kept his wand held out at Regulus. "You still used to be a death eater, and I've yet to meet one that I like. Why should I trust you?"

Sirius' brother smiled sadly, reminding Harry so much of his constantly depressed godfather. "Because we have a common enemy. The Dark Lord took something of mine, and so I want to get even by taking something of his- his soul."

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Harry quoted softly, not knowing where he had heard the term before, and finally lowered his wand. He could see the truthfulness is the man's words.

"Something like that," Regulus replied, smirking slightly.

"So what are you and your son doing here? Why did everyone think you were dead?"

"The second part is much harder to answer than the first part, so I will stay with that for now," replied Regulus. "We are here, in short, because of an argument between your three friends. They stumbled upon my diary inside the library at my old home. When they unlocked the charms on it, I was notified that someone had read it. My son and I expected the worst, knowing that only Sirius or Bellatrix could let people inside the house."

"Sirius is innocent," Harry pointed out.

"But I did not know that at the time," Regulus said. "I believed along with the rest of the world that he betrayed the Potters. I'm glad to learn he didn't, after all.

"To continue," he said, bringing his pondering up short, "we portkeyed into the manor expecting a fight, but instead found your friends."

"That was lucky, then." Harry interjected. "How did they react to you?"

"Very efficiently," Regulus said with approval, "If I didn't have such a clever son we would have both been stunned. You did well in training them."

"Thanks. I'll do anything to make sure that they stay alive."

Regulus nodded, "I can see why so many people have their faith in you, but back to business. Much has happened since you've left. I've spent years searching for the Horcruxes, and together your friends, Jacob, and I have put together a few pieces of the puzzle."

Black quickly informed Harry about how he had recently destroyed Hufflepuff's cup, and of the locket's safekeeping. Further, he told Harry about what he had found in the Ministries' records the previous morning about the quill.

"So we just need to find the quill, kill Nagini, and then Voldemort himself..." Harry mused, looking at the sleeping forms of his friends. He would do anything for them; even sacrifice himself if it came to it. Kaycee was sleeping peacefully on the floor next to Matt, getting some much-deserved rest from the events that had torn her father, and perhaps both of her parents, away from her. "We can do that," he said with grim determination.

Just then the portrait opened to admit Mrs. Weasley. Her eyes softened when she saw Harry and she quietly approached the two of them. "Mr. Black, I've already been informed on who you are. I would say that it is a pleasure to meet you but under the current circumstances..." She paused before continuing, "I would like to speak with the two of you."

The two men followed Mrs. Weasley obediently up to the boy's dormitories, away from the sleeping ears in the common room, and spoke first to black, "First of all I thank you for what you did, helping to rescue Harry. Your son is a gentleman and quite mature for his age and I am glad that my kids will have the opportunity to become his friends. However, what I do not appreciate is you taking my children into the line of fire- into a situation where they could be killed!" She paused and took a breath, using all of her concentration not to yell at him and wake the children in the common room. "There is nothing I can do about what you've done but give you a warning. If you ever do that again, you will regret it. I don't know what I will do, but the safety of my children is my first priority. I will do anything to protect them. Do you understand?"

Black just nodded and said, "I do."

"Good," Mrs. Weasley said as calmly as she could, "Hermione has already informed Professor McGonagall and I about how you came to meet my children- while she was being treated nonetheless, brave girl- and I'm inclined to trust you for what you've done for Harry. I need to speak with Harry privately now."

"I will be in the common room," Black said, and turned back down the stairs.

"Harry," Molly said after Black had retreated down the stairs, "I'm happy to see that you're safe."

"Thanks Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, "Is everyone still okay since I've left? I haven't had a chance to talk with hardly anyone."

Tears filled Mrs. Weasley's eyes, and the small sense of dread that had been in Harry's chest grew enormously. The woman he thought of as his adopted mother moved forward and hugged him heavily, shaking in her grief. "No dear, not everyone is fine... Arthur is- he's-"

She couldn't finish her sentence before breaking down into quiet mourning, but Harry knew anyways. Mr. Weasley had been killed.

It was a few minutes as Mrs. Weasley grieved once again for her lost husband before she regained some of her composure. "That is what I wanted to speak with you about, dear," she said. "Ron told me that you three are working on a task from Professor Dumbledore. I wanted to tell you- to ask you to reconsider. You are too young, and the war is far too dangerous for children to be fighting. My children are all I have left..." She shook her head and stopped speaking, and it broke Harry's heart to see such a strong woman so broken.

As much as he wanted to listen to her, for he longed to let someone else take his burden, he couldn't. "Mrs. Weasley, there is no one else that can do this. It is my burden, and believe me I would love to protect Ron and Hermione, but I can't. They've sworn that they're with me until the end, and I've come to grips with that. If this summer has taught me one thing it's that I can't do this alone."

"Won't you tell us what you need to do, Harry? The Order is so strong with volunteers we almost don't know what do to with everyone. We can help you."

"It's something that we have to do alone, Mrs. Weasley. If Voldemort-" Mrs. Weasley winced at the name, "found out, everything we've done until now will be useless."

Mrs. Weasley shook her head, "I wish it didn't have to be like this. I trust you to protect them as best you can, Harry. You know the dangers better than anyone."

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley." The two embraced almost as mother and son, only missing the common blood. "Could I ask you one more thing, mum?" Harry asked, using the unfamiliar endearment for the first time.

"Of course, Harry," she replied, holding his shoulders after they broke the hug. "What is it?"

"Matt and Kaycee, they're both magical. Matt just turned eleven and Kaycee never got a letter for some reason, so they both need to be taught. Could you do that for them?"

Mrs. Weasley smiled at her adopted son's thoughtfulness. "I certainly will Harry, but do they have wands? It will be almost impossible for anyone from the Order to go safely to Diagon Alley."

"They already do," Harry replied, "It's a long story."

Harry went back down to the common room to watch over his friends after Mrs. Weasley reluctantly gave him a message from Percy to meet him in the Headmistresses office in a few hours. Harry vaguely wondered what the prodigal son turned Minister of Magic wanted to ask him. Black was gone when Harry reentered the common room, so Harry sat by the fire and waited quietly until the others woke up.

Everyone else woke up in quick succession so they all headed down to the Great Hall together. Matt and Kaycee seemed much better than the night before, even though a quiet sadness always drifted between them over the loss of their father. Harry knew it would be a while before they would feel almost normal, and he knew that they needed all the support he could offer.

The group visited Hermione and Jaclyn, and Ron gave a gasp of joy when he saw Hermione sitting up in her bed, her eyes much less cloudy than the night before. "Ron, Harry, is that you?" she asked squinting. "I can't tell who it is yet."

Ron was quickly at her side and embraced her, "It's me, Hermione."

Harry was right behind him, "Hi, Hermione," was all he said as he also hugged her.

"Who is that behind you?" Hermione asked. Harry wondered how much she could actually see.

"It's Ginny and Jacob," Ginny said for the two of them, and Harry found himself wondering if they were a couple. It really didn't matter, he thought and quickly forgot he even had wondered about it.

"And Matt and Kaycee are over to your right. You haven't met them yet," Ron said, taking the initiative and introducing them to his girlfriend.

"It's nice to meet you," Matt said, and shook her hand.

Ron moved the chair over to Hermione's bedside, its legs making an unpleasant scraping on the stone floor and held her hand. A small silence followed before Kaycee said, "I suppose I should thank everyone for coming to rescue us. Were you all there?"

"Yeah and my dad came too, but we didn't-" Ginny elbowed Jacob sharply, cutting him off.

"You're welcome," Ginny said, smiling. "Harry's saved us all lots of times, so would do the same for him and his friends in a heartbeat."

The group stayed in the cordoned off area with the two beds, telling Harry, Kaycee, and Matt about everything that had happened since Harry had left. There was a lot to tell, he thought. Ginny and Jacob left after they had been caught up, telling Hermione that they would visit her again soon.

Mrs. Weasley came by shortly, offering everyone breakfast. Matt immediately jumped at the change and followed her to another corner of the great hall which hand been put aside for mealtimes, one of the long house tables serving everyone at once. Ron stayed behind, promising his mum that he would get food for both him and Hermione shortly, and Kaycee said that she wanted to talk with Harry first.

So the two of them began walking through the halls of Hogwarts, sunlight pouring through the countless open and stained glass windows. Harry was happy to see that she still held his hand, after everything that she had been through. She asked her first question after they had walked a short ways and were completely alone. "What am I, Harry? Why did I get one of these," she took out her wand, "but not a letter?"

"You're a witch." Harry said. "I don't know why you didn't get a letter, but the place where you got that wouldn't have given it to you if you couldn't use it."

"I don't think I am," Kaycee said, "I knew that you would be on that path, where we found you. I know when important things are going to happen in advance. You had that dream a couple of days after we found you. I was there. That evil man was able to feel me."

Harry's eyes widened, "That was you?" Kaycee nodded. "And you said that you knew I was on the trail?"

Another nod, "And the night you were about to leave I was faced with a choice. I knew if I let you leave we would be left alone, but I also knew that my life would not be what it could have been. It was a choice between the safe and the fulfilling. So you see, all of this was not your fault, it was mine."

Harry stopped and pulled Kaycee into a hug. "It wasn't anyone's fault. You didn't know exactly what was going to happen." Kaycee nodded. She would never tell Harry about the burning house that had permanently found a place in her mind.

"And trust me, you're a witch. You just have a few, err- extra gifts. We even have a name for what you can do. Its called Divination, which means that you can see certain future events."

Kaycee nodded, reassured slightly. "Now what are we going to do?"

"I already talked with Mrs. Weasley, and she is going to teach you and Matt how to do magic. We're probably going to stay here for a few more days at least so that Hermione and your mum get better. Then we're going back to Grimmauld place. Don't worry, you and Matt will always have a place to stay and something to do."

"Okay," said Kaycee. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." Kaycee stood on her toes and kissed Harry. He responded and wrapped his arms around her, one hand going behind her head. Kaycee loved the feeling, being so surrounded by someone strong and confident. Being surrounded by Harry.

After a time they went down to get breakfast, carrying their food to Hermione and Jaclyn's beds. Ron was still there talking with Hermione quietly, eating fruit and sipping their tea. "I need to go talk to them for a second, okay?" Harry asked Kaycee, and she nodded. He gave her and a squeeze and let go, making towards Ron and Hermione.

"Hi, Harry," Hermione said as he approached.

Harry's eyebrows rose, "Vision getting better?" Her pupils were definitely regaining their original colors very quickly.

"Yes, it's much better thanks," she said with a smile.

"Hey mate, are we still going to look for them?"

"Yeah," Harry said, "Just not how we planned it before. We have a lot more help than we thought we would. We'll all look, but we can use Hogwarts and Grimmauld as places to stay. Regulus can make us Portkeys to go anywhere we need..."

"You're right, didn't think about that," Ron replied.

"Even after he made one for us to go halfway around the world," said Hermione slyly.

"There is that, yeah," said Ron his ears turning a bit red. Hermione hit him on the arm lightly.

Harry shook his head. "I can't believe you two actually get along now. Never thought I'd see the day."

"We aren't that bad!" Hermione said, scandalized.

Ron grinned, "Not anymore, at least."

"Ronald Weasley! We were not that bad!" Hermione said forcefully.

"If you say so, darling," replied Ron. Harry smiled at the both of them and remembered the photograph that the gifting place had given him, which was now safely tucked in his pocket. He was glad to have his two best friends back.

Hermione huffed, but surprisingly let it go. "Anyways, how are Kaycee and Matt doing? I want to get to know them better."

"Fine," Harry said quickly, "But listen, they aren't Muggles. Matt got his letter the same night the death eaters came, and Kaycee is definitely magical too. She didn't get a letter but she did have a wand choose her and anti-Muggle wards don't affect her."

"Why didn't she get a letter?" Ron asked. "The American schools aren't nearly as good I suspect."

"Who knows?" Harry asked. "Regardless, your mum has agreed to teach both of them magic."

"That's a good idea," said Hermione matter-of-factly. Harry consciously stopped his eyes from rolling. "And speaking of schooling, McGonagall says she is going to be opening the school for anyone who wants to go. All the teachers are going to be coming back-"

"Minus Snivellus," Ron interjected.

"-So we were wondering what you thought about coming back to finish our last year."

It was an idea, Harry thought. It would give them some a schedule to set things by and some regularity. Harry voiced his thoughts and found that Hermione readily agreed while Ron was somewhat reluctant. Those were the expected reactions, and Harry wondered why he had even asked. "I don't think so," Harry said finally. "There's too much to do. I don't know exactly what yet, but we can't be bothered with school when our lives are on the line."

Hermione looked sad but saw the reasoning behind Harry's decision and accepted it. The trio talked a bit longer and Kaycee came over. She was formally introduced to Ron and Hermione, and the two girls seemed to hit it off instantly.

After Harry was confident that Kaycee was comfortable with his friends, he excused himself, explaining that Percy wanted to see him in McGonagall's office. He made his way up to the stone gargoyle, which sprang aside for him. He knocked and was called inside.

Percy Weasley was inside the office along with Kingsley Shacklebolt and McGonagall. He stood as soon as he saw Harry and extended his hand. "Hello Harry," he said.

"Hi," replied Harry, still a bit wary of the recently reformed Weasley brother. They hadn't spoken since before Percy had abandoned his family for the old Ministry.

"First of all," Percy began, "I want to apologize for acting like a complete idiot before." Harry raised his eyebrows, never hearing Percy admit to being wrong before. "So, I'm sorry. I hope that you see I've changed by what I'm doing now to try and fix what I'm partially responsible for."

"I'm approving so far," Harry said by way of a peace offering. He noticed Kingsley rolling his eyes, but ignored it.

"Good," said Percy. "Now as for the reason you're here. We need your help, to be blunt. As far as the matters with You-Know-Who-"

"Voldemort," Harry corrected.

Percy coughed suddenly and Kingsley jumped when Harry said the name, but nodded his head, "Alright. Your name is the most well known when concerning matters with V-Voldemort."

"Maybe we had better start with the problem first," McGonagall interjected.

"Quite right. This has been playing on the radio, both Muggle and Wizard, for a few days now."

Percy flipped a switch on a small radio on McGonagall's desk and the horribly familiar voice of Lucius Malfoy filled the room, "...so called 'Ministry of Magic' is nothing more than a front for violent rebels intent on getting the sympathies of the world first. Our beloved minister rightfully elected by citizens of magical culture was assassinated by these rebels- ironically calling themselves the Order of the Phoenix. The attacks that have been happening around the country, resulting in the loss of British lives, have their origins with the ambitions plans of the Order of the Phoenix. They are largely a militant group and are in control of the Ministry of Magic, the Minister himself a member of the secretive organization. I urge everyone to listen to the facts and to judge for yourself-"

The radio died at a wave from McGonagall's wand, "So now you see the problem. I hope that after your rather abrupt disappearance you might be willing to help."

Harry was shocked at his Professor's tone. She was someone that he trusted explicitly, or rather used to. "No I'm not going to help."

"Headmistress, we have already discussed this. Harry is now an adult and can make decisions for himself. You have no right to tell him what to do."

"He wasn't of age a month ago when he left!" McGonagall argued.

"You aren't his guardian either. Now please, let Harry decide for himself."

Harry was shocked at the exchange between two of the most powerful figures in wizarding society. Percy was the last person that he thought would support him. "Thanks Percy," he said. "I don't even know why I need to be defended at all." He looked at McGonagall, who didn't return his glance. "I'll help. What do you want me to do?" Harry was just glad that someone took him seriously. He _was_ of age after all.

"Everything has gone to hell, Harry," Percy said bluntly. "People are dying out there. Muggles and wizards are fleeing the country. No one was expecting anything like this to happen. If Muggles or particularly ignorant wizards from other countries listen to that tripe," he said, indicating the radio, "We're in for even more trouble."

"Okay..." Harry didn't like where this was leading.

"The first Muggle fighting forces from America are landing soon. The field commanders don't know whom to trust, and neither do their aurors. Malfoy is right in the fact that there is no government right now, just two fighting forces that the world knows next to nothing about. The Americans want to hear who the good guys are directly from you."

"Me?! Why?"

Percy replied, "Simple. Because you're famous and you would never ally with Voldemort. That's the only truth they're sure of."

Harry sighed; he understood the reasoning behind the American's request. "So the American aurors want to see me?"

Percy smiled wryly, "You have to remember that Muggles are involved now. The auror and Muggle commanders want to speak with you. We'll get you caught up on the specifics and then you can tell your friends what's happening, but a Portkey leaves for the landing point in a two hours. Be here before then."


	10. Chapter 10

The Prime Minister stood in the middle of his new office, looking in every direction. This was his first time alone in it since he was nominated after the assassination. He gave a small sigh of half accomplishment and half worry. His first day as Prime Minister had been intense, frazzling, and just downright bizarre.

The day started with riots in all the major cities over the revelation of the magical community and the subsequent double assassination of the Minister of Magic and Prime Minister. The people were demanding answers and their collective voice consisted of everything from protest signs to rocks. Then FM bands all over Britain began to broadcast messages about the war, detailing a group known as the Order of the Phoenix as dangerous criminals fighting against the rightful magical government.

After his appointment to the office earlier in the day his people put together a news package for the evening news, having just enough detail to satisfy public uproar without spreading unneeded fear through the country. That vague news package had contained almost everything that his government knew, for all links with the magical world had died with the assassination of his predecessor and the witch Amelia Bones.

Witch.

It was hard for the Prime Minister to comprehend such notions silly as magic. It had been just a fairy tale until the day before, but there was no doubt as to its truthfulness. He along with the rest of the world had seen the sickly green spell rush in and steal the lives of two people. He had seen how their bodies were blown backwards into the officials behind them. He had seen how life was snuffed out without mark, blemish, or even hesitation.

His job done, the assassin had spun on his heels and disappeared into thin air with a sharp _crack_! Just a second afterwards another man stepped forward and wrapped his arm around the corpse of the Minister of Magic, disappearing in exactly the same manner as the assassin. The regular police were left to clear out the crowd and rope off the area. The whole ordeal had lasted a few measly seconds- and everyone magical had disappeared in the blink of an eye. The war there in one second and gone the next, it was as if the world had accidentally seen something it was not supposed to have seen. They had all glimpsed from a dark hallway into the brightly illuminated crack of a door, only to recoil in horror at the light beyond their little hallway.

That had been yesterday morning, and the Prime Minister had not heard anything from the magical section of his government since. Instead he had spent the day supervising his press release, hearing about the riots, and conferring with his advisors about how to respond to the mysterious radio messages, coming from one faction in the shadowy wizard war.

"Bloody mess," the Prime Minister muttered to himself. How was he to do anything without some contact from the magical government? Already a whole day had been wasted.

Sighing, he sunk into his large leather chair. At least one good thing was going to come to pass before the day was out. The Minister of Defense was due to arrive within the hour, bringing with him a report on American forces scheduled to arrive the next morning. The help they were due to receive had been requested by Amelia Bones and helped along by his predecessor. It was a mixed force of both wizard and normal troops. If anything remained of the rightful sector of his magical government then they would be there to meet the American wizards.

The Prime minister wondered if members of the Order of the Phoenix would be present, for he had a number of questions to ask them. Supposedly Bones supported the group, but the radio message had said they were nothing more than rebellious militants. Who was he to believe? Either way it was the only hint he had to find out who the good guys were. It wasn't an opportunity he was going to pass up.

The intercom on the desk in front of him buzzed quietly and his secretary's voice said, "Mr. Prime Minister, your appointment is here."

Leaning forward and pressing the intercom he replied, "Yes, send him in." Sitting back in his chair he folded his hands and waited for the large oak doors on the other side of the office to open in anticipation.

The oak doors did open, but instead of revealing the Minister of Defense an impossibly blond-haired man with a pointed face walked in, a fancy bathrobe trailing behind him. Too late- much, much too late- the Prime Minister realized that it wasn't a bathrobe at all, but rather a cloak. "You! You're a-"

"_Imperio_!" the man said, pointing a stick at him. Immediately the office around the Prime Minister melted away and he found himself floating in a warm nothingness. Colors he couldn't focus on floated around him like a lazy plasma and his muscles relaxed automatically. It was pure peace and contentment; the worries and stresses of his short office evaporating like sweat.

A face appeared in front of him, the same one that had brought him this wonderful peace. It was smiling, the two blue eyes not looking icy or cold, but more like the blue of the sky. "Tell me what you know about the wizarding war," it commanded of him.

The minister was only too happy to answer.

Half an hour later, the Prime Minister's intercom buzzed again with the small voice of his secretary, "You have the Minister of Defense to see you, sir."

"Send him in, make sure the doors are shut behind him."

A short and stout man of fifty walked through the oak doors and into the room, his cheeks slightly baggy but his eyes hard and set in a constant glare. The Prime Minister sat at his desk impassively.

"Albert, it is good to see you."

"Likewise," grunted the short man. He waited a few seconds for a handshake and a seat, but none came.

Instead the white-blond man that had been standing unnoticed in the back of the room raised his wand towards the Minister of Defense and said, "I have you now... _Imperio_!"

*

Harry arrived back in the small curtained area in the Great Hall to find Kaycee happily chatting with Ron and Hermione. His heart grew a little to see Kaycee have a small pocket of normalcy inside Hogwarts as it slowly returned to normal; patients moving to St. Mungo's when space was made available. She was sitting next to her mother, listening intently as Hermione demonstrated the wand motion for the levitation charm. Harry smiled, reliving the memory of the troll that had brought Hermione over as the third in their little trio.

"Madam Pomfrey let you out so quickly?" Harry asked when he realized that she was out of bed and back in normal clothes.

"Perfect health," Hermione said, holding her arms wide as if to confirm it.

"Good." He took a seat in the empty chair next to Kaycee. "Don't let me stop your lesson."

"I think I have it anyways. Swish and flick," she parroted, doing the wand motion. "I'll practice while you tell us what Ron's brother wanted."

"All right. He wants me to go with him to meet some people. They asked for me because they want me to tell them who to believe."

"You're meeting Muggles?" Hermione asked, interested. "Who?"

"Err, well-" Harry said, his eyes darting away to settle on Kaycee practicing the swish and flick motion as she listened, "American military?"

"WHAT!?" both girls screeched.

"Are you crazy?" Kaycee asked just as Hermione said, "Are you daft?"

"No to both," said Harry crossing his arms. "They don't know who to trust. Lucius Malfoy is spreading propaganda to the Muggles over the radio and no one knows what to believe. Supposedly I'm the only confirmed fact for everyone at this point. Besides, Voldemort wouldn't care one bit about Muggle military."

"Maybe," Hermione countered.

"When are you supposed to go, Harry?" asked Ron.

"Two hours."

Hermione shook her head, and was about to argue again when Kaycee broke in, "Well, it makes sense if we're being honest. I barely have any idea about this war and I'm right in the middle of it. What would a bunch of, err- Muggles, know? I'm sure Harry can take care of himself anyways. Two days ago he was-"

Kaycee stopped in the middle of her sentence and the happiness dropped out of her expression instantly. Harry knew she was thinking of her parents but was at a loss of what to do. He took her hand, hoping she would like it.

Surprisingly Ron also noticed Kaycee's hurt and quickly veered into less painful waters. "I guess you're right. It shouldn't be too dangerous and if Harry's the only one to do it..." He shrugged as if there was nothing else to be said about the topic.

Apparently there wasn't as they talked about the basics of magical theory, allowing Kaycee to learn more about the world to which she belonged.

Harry left his friends just under two hours later, getting hugs all around. Everyone was waiting for him when he entered McGonagall's office.

"All right, Harry?" asked Percy.

"I'm fine."

Percy nodded, "Good. Now there hasn't been any contact between us and the outside since the assassination, but this meeting was already finalized last week. No one should be surprised by our arrival."

Harry nodded, "Who's going?"

"Just you, Kingsley, and I," Percy said, nodding his head to the powerful Auror standing silently to the side.

"That's it?"

"That's all we need. I'm the Minister of Magic, Kingsley is head Auror and can double as a representative of the Order, and you. There's going to be a lot of Muggles there that don't know a single thing about wizards, so we don't want to have too intimidating a group."

"But I thought that there were going to be wizards there too," said Harry, confused.

"There are, but the Muggles only found out about us two days ago. I bet the Americans know as little about each other as they know about us." Percy rubbed his eyes and gestured to a letter opener on McGonagall's desk. " The Portkey is ready. We'll be arriving right at the landing point. Kingsley?"

The black Auror came forward, "Let's get this over with quickly," he said. "The Death Eaters aren't very active right now and it has everyone on edge."

"Of course," Percy replied, "Grab hold on my count. Three, two, one..."

Suddenly the office was empty, save for an artificial wind and a worried headmistress.

*

Major Curtis looked across at his magical counterpart and scowled, "What do you mean 'no contact?' I may not know much about you wizards but where I come from we don't land on friendly soil without permission."

Auror Banks leaned back in his chair, "We did get authorization of course. That was back when there was a government to communicate with. Haven't heard anything since the assassination, but as to why your Muggle government hasn't contacted us..." he just shrugged.

Curtis frowned and got out of his chair to pace the room. Their small base consisted of one plain concrete building three stories tall and a large parking lot, all nestled into a small wood in southern England. It had been loaned to them for a headquarters for peacekeeping operations in England, as requested by the now apparently defeated Ministry of Magic. When the joint Marine-Auror motorcade had rolled into the base it was abandoned.

"I don't like it," Curtis stated. "Is there a possibility that they've been subverted?"

"Depending on how much effort is being put into protecting the new Muggle administration, maybe."

"Damn." He turned to the Auror, "What do you think?"

"I think it's too early to tell," the Auror replied honestly. "Let's just get the defenses up as quickly as possible and hope that a contingent from the Ministry of Magic arrives soon. We're in a hostile environment until we know otherwise."

The Major nodded in agreement, "How is your part coming along?"

Banks stood and walked over to the window, pulling up the blinds and looking out at the parking lot two stories below. It was bustling with activity, uniformed Marines moving back and forth with various duties, erecting tents, barbed wire fencing, and guard towers. The Humvees that had carried the battalion (consisting of just over five hundred men) were parked neatly off to one side of the lot. Sprinkled in with the camouflaged men below were wizards in black robes, sticking out like burnt rice that had found its way into a white bag. The battalion had been briefed shortly on their presence, and a full explanation on the nature of the joint operation was going to happen when they were settled.

"Looks like initial warding is close to completion." The sky above the base suddenly shimmered yellow as the wards were erected, too much exclamation on the ground below. "Perimeter wards were just erected."

"And they do what, again?" asked the Major, approaching the window to peer at the yellow-tinted sky.

"Makes a big fuss when someone tries to cross them. Takes quite a bit of effort to actually push through them as well; like wading through a swamp. Ones that go out a few miles should be coming up soon as well."

"Radar," the Major muttered to himself. "Very good."

Just then an empty area at the edge of the tree line seemed to fold in on itself. The painted lines on the asphalt bunched up and then uncoiled, like an inching worm. The space squashed in and then bulged out, as if the very fabric of space was bursting to rip. Suddenly, source less light burst out before the space returned to normal, revealing three new travelers in cloaks as it did so.

The Marine that had been posted to guard the tree line in that area reacted quickly. He shouldered his rifle and shouted something that the two men couldn't hear. Two travelers spread their arms wide, showing themselves to be no threat, but the third man stood unmoving.

The soldier aimed his rifle at the unmoving man and shouted again. Still unmoving, the man stared back at the soldier for a few long seconds.

"Just do it, boy!" the Major growled to himself. "Your wizards don't know anything about the danger they're in." The Auror nodded in agreement.

Then it happened. The man's right hand plunged into his left sleeve and his whole body glowed red. The Marine fired twice into the man's chest, and the wizard stumbled backwards and quickly sent a spell at the guard, making him fly backwards and drop his rifle, before falling to the ground himself.

"Damn it all!" the Major said and ran from the room, Banks close on his heels. They burst out the doors of the building a few seconds later and ran to the quickly escalating commotion at the far side of the lot. Nearby marines who had heard the shots were running in and shouting at the travelers.

"One of the Ministry got themselves killed already!" the Major shouted to Banks as they ran towards the quickly forming circle. "Marines stand down!" Curtis shouted as he reached the Marines that had surrounded the three wizards. "These are friendlies!"

Curtis and Banks broke through the circle to see the two men and one older teen, all with their wands out. How the hell was the boy standing again? Curtis rested his right hand on his holstered pistol as the supposed to be dead boy brought up his wand in defense.

"You aren't dead," the Major said, stunned. He turned to look at Curtis to see that the wizard was just as surprised. "Why aren't you dead?"

"After the Killing Curse, a piece of metal doesn't scare me all that much," the boy said, his face slightly pained. He brushed his sweating hair out of his eyes to reveal a scar on his forehead and the Major heard Banks gasp from beside him.

"Harry Potter!" the Head Auror exclaimed loudly.

"Is this the contingent from the Ministry of Magic?" Curtis asked Banks quietly, and Banks nodded.

"Very good then. At least one thing went right today." Major Curtis looked to the Marines, listening intently to the exchange. "Back to your jobs, Marines! Briefing in 1500!"

The area cleared out after a sharp salute from every man who had heard and left just the Ministry contingent, Curtis, Banks, and the downed guard who had confronted the kid.

Curtis picked up the rifle and handed it to the marine, "Report to medical for a checkup and get back to your post." The man snapped a salute and left without a word.

"And you," Curtis said, "You need a medic?"

The boy named Harry Potter shook his head and lifted his shirt. The skin on his stomach had two impressive black and blue bruises. He cast a spell on the marks and they quickly shrank to angry red welts. "I'm fine."

The Major nodded, his eyes wide at the usefulness of magic, and beckoned the three to follow him. "Let's get to the meeting room and you can explain what exactly is happening here. You're the first contact we've had."

"No contact from the Muggles yet?" Percy asked.

"Briefing room," Banks said, "Not all the defenses are up yet. We can't take the risk of anyone hearing."

The five men moved inside the grey building and up the stairwell to the third floor meeting room.

"Now," the Major said, "Let's have some introductions all around. I am Major Curtis, U.S. Marines. This is Head Auror Banks, leading the group that has piggybacked here with us."

The redheaded man came forward and shook their hands. "Percy Weasley, Minister of Magic. This is Head Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, doubling as a liaison from the Order of the Phoenix. And this is Harry Potter."

Curtis eyed the Potter kid closely, looking at his posture and expression. It was obvious he was a fighter, being the only one of the three to disarm the guard that had confronted them. The kid was special, sure, but it still wasn't a good enough reason for him to be taking the front lines in a war.

He wanted to ask the question carefully, as he would be the first to admit that he didn't know much about wizards. "Son, aren't you a little young to be here?"

The young wizard looked at the Major with a steely gaze and said, "You may want to ask that question to the kid I knocked down, sir. He's a few years older than me, but I've seen more than half of your men."

"Mr. Potter was the downfall of the man that's causing all of the trouble now," replied Minister Weasley. "We had almost sixteen years of peace because Harry and the only reason Voldemort's back is because the rest of us didn't finish the job."

"Major, I requested that he came with the others," Banks said. "At this point he's the only one that we can trust because of his history with the enemy. Also, he's Dumbledore's apprentice."

"Not officially," Harry mumbled, looking at the floor. Curtis was at a loss as to who Dumbledore was.

"Actually," countered Banks, "You are. There was a bit of a stir over on our side when he announced you. It was probably kept quiet in your school to avoid any problems. Dumbledore was one of the top ranked duelists in the world and we were rather interested to see who would succeed him."

Harry looked up and shrugged. "Doesn't matter anyways. Official or not I still learned what I learned. He still died."

"That's true," Banks conceded. "But what's past is past. Right now we need to plan for the future." He looked towards Shacklebolt, "You're liaison for the Order of the Phoenix as well? So I assume that they're fully integrated with the government?"

"For the time being," Shacklebolt replied. "No actual administration is happening at the moment. All our efforts are going into locating pockets of Death Eaters and protecting Muggle citizens. The number of random attacks has increased dramatically since the Battle of Hogwarts."

"Your Order," the Major pointed to Shacklebolt and Percy, "is the wizard militia. Is that correct?" They nodded. He looked to Harry, "And they're fighting against this Voldemort." Harry nodded. "What exactly is he trying to accomplish? Do we have a name for his group?"

"They're called Death Eaters, and his goal is to rule. He is power-hungry and obsessed with fear and control."

"I see." Curtis said quietly. "Now, where are the attacks on the population happening?"

"Death Eaters tend to stay away from the large cities and go for rural areas just outside the city limits," answered Shacklebolt.

"And what is your biggest challenge when you confront the Death Eaters?"

"It's been hard to either capture or kill them before they Disapparate." At the confused look on the Major's face, Banks explained what Apparition was.

To his credit Curtis took it in stride. "The killing is easy," he said. "What is hard is winning. How is this war going to end?"

Harry spoke up. "The only way that it will finish is when Voldemort is dead."

"Getting followers is easy for him," Percy said, "The Imperious Curse makes sure of that. Before he wanted people who would serve him loyally. Now all he needs are bodies to do grunt work."

"The fanatical type then. Now, how are you finding the Death Eaters when they attack?"

"Very similarly to the way we used to detect underage magic- except now we look for the unforgivable curses."

Banks nodded and briefly explained it to Curtis. Together the men slowly worked out a strategy for taking on the Death Eaters...

*

High above the newly established American base and twenty kilometers out, Capitan O'Neal spoke into his microphone, "This is strike team leader approaching drop zone."

An operator from miles away answered his request, "Strike team leader, drop zone approach confirmed. Munitions coming online now."

A red button in front of O'Neal lit up, and he couldn't help but grimace slightly. What was he doing up here, bombing his own soil? This wasn't what he had signed up for. He had joined the RAF to protect England's citizens from attack and to protect her interests abroad. Killing people without a reason given to him on his own soil left a bad taste in his mouth. He refocused as he quickly approached the target. It didn't matter. He had his orders and had to trust them. What was anything without order? Shaking his head in resignation he checked his distance. Go time.

Strapping on his mask he eased forward on the engine to get up to speed. "Flight team leader in range." He pressed the red button that had remained lit for the last minute. "Munitions away."

With that O'Neal turned sharply and accelerated to supersonic speeds, his job done. He shook his head as the rest of his team confirmed their drops through his headset. There was no way that this would end well.

The Minister of Defense thanked the subordinate that had informed him of the successful bombing of the insurgent base and hung up the phone. He sat in his office with a blank look in his eyes, no reaction to the fact that he had just destroyed the help that the government had requested not a week earlier.

*

The sky above Harry flashed yellow and a source less alarm rang through the base. The unmistakable supersonic boom of a jet aircraft shook him to his core as he looked up. There, moving slowly through the wards like a man swimming through honey were ten cylindrical objects with fins on the back.

The marine next to him cursed loudly and yelled, "Get down! Bombs!"

Harry had seen enough war movies back at the Dursleys to know what they were. He lifted his wand and began casting spells at the distant objects. He was able to make a few disappear before the first ones got through the wards where they quickly gained speed with normal gravity returned to them. The first one detonated across the parking lot, destroying half the vehicles and a guard tower. The next two detonated much closer and the shockwave almost knocked him off of his feet.

Harry ran towards the command building, continually casting spells at the falling bombs and dodging the men running around him in every direction. He was able to make a few more disappear before one detonated too closely. Harry curled into a ball and cast the strongest shield spell that came to his mind. He was thrown through the air, protected by his shield as he hit the wall of the concrete building. The last bomb detonated on the other side of the building. It fell down around him in a cacophony of cracking rock and groaning metal...

And so the Muggle war began.


	11. Chapter 11

After Harry left Ron, Hermione, and Kaycee moved into an unused classroom to continue their lessons on magic. Mrs. Weasley and Matt joined them shortly afterwards, Mrs. Weasley explaining that Harry had asked her to help teach Kaycee and Matt about magic. Mrs. Weasley took Matt to the other side of the room and began to teach him while Hermione continued to talk to Kaycee about the Levitation spell. Hermione explained how the forces of gravity were bent away from the object charmed, and how it instead allowed for a person's willpower to affect the movement of the object. It was interesting, and Hermione was a good teacher, mixing Kaycee's understanding of Muggle science with magical theory, but it was hard for her to focus now that Harry wasn't in the castle with her. Her heart just couldn't focus on learning when Harry might have been in danger.

Ron and Hermione were great people and Kaycee suspected they would become good friends in the near future, but Harry was not there. Mrs. Weasley took to Matt like another son and gave him much needed comfort, but Kaycee was too old to accept a temporary replacement of her mother so easily. It was Harry that made the difference. His presence turned out to be the only thing that could comfort her in the midst of everything that she had brought upon her family. It _was_ her fault that her father had died and that her mother… still might not live, and Harry was the only one she had confessed it to; probably the only one who would ever know the whole truth.

Hermione's voice brought her back to the lesson, "Kaycee? I asked if you were ready to try it."

"Huh? Oh yeah- sure." Kaycee quickly compiled the knowledge that she had half-listened to and raised her wand towards the feather Hermione had set on the table in front of her. "_Wingardarium Leviosa_!" she said, flicking and swishing her wand at the feather. To everyone's surprise the feather instantly rose off of the table and followed where Kaycee directed. There was no hesitation or delay and the feather instantly responded to the perfectly performed charm.

As she let the feather drop back to the table, Ron said in a slightly stunned voice, "That was as good as I've ever seen."

"Yeah," Hermione replied, "Even I didn't do it that well the first time."

Mrs. Weasley came over from the other side of the room from where she was teaching Matt how to transfigure a match into a needle. "Very good dear. I'm not surprised that it comes so easily for you."

"Why?" asked Kaycee. She and Harry had spoken about her skills in glimpsing the future, but didn't want anyone else to know. She had asked Harry not to say anything, and was greatly disappointed that he had said something about it.

"Three things affect a person's ability to do magic," said Mrs. Weasley kindly. "One is inborn ability; not having to do with blood or any of that nonsense, but individually. The second is practice and knowledge, of course, and the third is maturity. First year students are taught simple spells not because they can't understand the more complicated theory, but because most are incapable of doing more complex magic. Children just have to grow into it."

"So the spells that are taught to the first few years are going to be easy for me to do?"

"As long as you understand the theory, dear," Mrs. Weasley replied. "If I were you I would just go down to the library and get a spell book. They teach theory as good as anyone."

Kaycee looked over to Hermione to see her reaction to the suggestion that a book could teach as well as her. She didn't expect to see a slightly crazy glint in the girl's eyes. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley!" With that she grabbed Kaycee and Ron's hands and began to pull her out of the room.

"Can I come?" Matt asked walking over from his table, upon which was a silvery match.

"I'm afraid that a real teacher will be much better than a book for you, dear," Mrs. Weasley said kindly. " But I see you've made progress on your needle. Let's continue with that."

"Bye Matt!" Kaycee said with a laugh as Hermione pulled her and Ron through the door. "We'll see you at lunch!" She never saw the undisguised hurt in Matt's eyes.

In the library Hermione took a small stack of books from the shelves and set them in front of Kaycee. "Grades one and two, standard books of spells," she said in a way that reminded Kaycee of a train conductor. Obviously the girl loved books. "Read through them. Ron and I are going to be researching something for Harry."

Kaycee nodded and began on the second chapter of the first grade book. The theory was easy enough to understand, which Kaycee thought was strange. The ideas and theories inside the book bent or contradicted the assumed truths of Muggle science, and yet made complete sense to her. It was easy to throw away all of her preconceived notions about the natural world as she read the book. It was as if she belonged to the world of magic much more than the Muggle world, and that their ideas were more acceptable to her. That's probably exactly why, she thought to herself. Despite everything that had happened, and what was still happening. A smile half-formed on her lips. She had been thinking about how she had never belonged right before she had found Harry on the trail all those weeks ago. Now, even though she still had much to learn, she belonged.

Hermione and Ron returned from the countless stacks and isles of books and tomes with their arms laden. Together the three read and talked together effortlessly, lunchtime arriving before Kaycee had thought even an hour had passed.

*

The day was a wet one, despite it being in the middle of summer. Grey mists swirled around the pair as they walked through the grassy courtyard sparsely paved with damp stones. The boy had dark hair, shining with dew, while the girl's was fiery red, thick and glistening in opposition to the grayness around them. The two walked hand in hand, not saying much but instead just enjoying each other's company. Eventually the two found a small alcove against the castle wall surrounded by shrubbery and complete with a stone bench. They sat, partially happy for the protection against the weather, but mostly because of the privacy the alcove offered.

They kissed, and then Jacob wrapped his arms around Ginny. She leaned back against his shoulder. "You know," she said, "I thought you were shy when I first met you."

"I'm not?" Jacob asked with a laugh. "That's news to me. I've hardly talked to anyone but my father for seventeen years."

"You're quiet with big groups," Ginny said slowly, "But remember how I first met you. You were… very intimidating. I think that's what I like so much about you. A wolf in sheep's clothing."

"Thanks for the compliment! You're pretty, err…" Jacob said, searching for the right word.

"Thank you for saying I'm pretty," Ginny said slyly, "But continue."

"Fiery," Jacob concluded; "That last comment case-in-point." He kissed her ear. "But yes, you are very pretty." Ginny smiled and the two sat in silence for a while longer, the drizzly day unable to break their spirits.

Jacob's stomach eventually growled, making the two decide it was time to go in for lunch. They held hands as they walked back into the Great Hall. Now blissfully cleared of injured witches and wizards. Kaycee's mother had been moved into the Hospital Wing. "Hermione wanted us to join them for a bit of dueling practice after lunch. Do you want to go?"

"That sounds great," Jacob replied. "Ron told me she knows 'every spell known to wizard-kind.' I have a few things I learned from father to show her."

Black met the couple inside the Great Hall while they were eating lunch. The few other adults inside the Hall eyed him warily, but no one actually knew his true identity. To them he was just an unnamed guest of the headmistress. Sitting down next to Ginny and Jacob he said, "Everyone needs to meet tonight after Harry returns to discuss the trinkets. I'm going to teach you the easiest way to destroy them and we'll finally get rid of that locket."

Ginny and Jacob nodded and Ginny told Regulus about the Room of Requirement. Jacob's father nodded thoughtfully. "That room sounds exactly like what we need. Be there an hour before curfew tonight. I'm assuming you can tell your brother and the Muggleborn girls?"

"Their names are Hermione and Kaycee, father," Jacob said with a sigh.

"Right. Ron, Hermione, and Kaycee?" he corrected.

"We will," Ginny promised. Black excused himself, saying that he had to retrieve the trinket that his friend was holding for him and that he would meet them later.

After Black left they finished their meals before leaving to find the three others. Ginny suggested they check the library first, knowing Hermione, and found all three of them indeed sitting at a table in the back.

Kaycee was busy with a host of second and third year spells. A few teacups stood on the table, having already been transfigured from turtles, while Kaycee herself was practicing the cutting curse and repairing charm on a pillow. Ginny raised her eyebrows in surprise as they got closer. "You're moving through the years pretty quickly," she said.

"Kaycee looked up from the pillow she had just repaired and smiled at the pair, her eyes traveling past their interlinked hands with hardly a hitch. "Thanks! Mrs. Weasley said it's because I'm older than other kids who learn these spells and as long as I know the theory I should catch up to you guys quickly enough."

"Theory isn't the easiest thing to understand," Ginny replied. "Usually it takes months to understand the theory behind the _Reparo_ charm."

Kaycee shrugged. "It's easy enough for me. I just need to practice a lot. I've been working at it since breakfast."

"You're getting it faster than I've ever seen," Hermione said, looking up from a crusty leather volume. Looking towards Ginny and Jacob with a straight face she asked, "How was your, um, walk?"

Jacob blushed slightly at the comment but didn't let go of Ginny's hand. Ginny just gave Hermione a small glare and continued as if she hadn't heard anything, "Jacob's father wants us to meet him in the Room of Requirement when Harry is back; an hour before curfew."

"Why?" Ron asked.

"He's going to show us how to get rid of the pesky trinkets. He's getting the one that his friend is keeping safe for him," said Jacob.

"Wait," Kaycee said, breaking into the discussion. "What are you all talking about? What trinkets?"

Everyone went silent, realizing their mistake. Ginny had just assumed that Harry had told Kaycee about the Horcruxes; everyone else must have assumed the same. _He didn't tell you_, a voice inside her head said snidely, _so why would he tell her?_

"It has something to do with the war," Hermione finally said after a few moments of awkward silence. "We can't say anything about it, since it isn't our secret."

"Who's secret is it? Jacob's dad?"

"No," Hermione replied, "It's Harry's."

"But he hasn't told me about any secrets or trinkets," Kaycee said. Ginny bit her lip, unsure of what to say, but was saved when Kaycee said, "All right. I'll go see how Matt is doing."

"You don't have to," Ginny said. "We don't speak for Harry, but ask him later. I'm sure he just didn't want you to worry." Kaycee nodded hesitantly and Ginny smiled at her. "Good. Now, I want to see what you've learned!"

Kaycee spent the next few minutes demonstrating the spells that she had mastered, which included most of the first year spells and transfigurations, half of the second year, and a smattering of third year curses. With a small smirk she turned her wand on Ron and said, "_Stupefy_!" A translucent pink spell raced towards the redhead and he deflected it easily with a shield. "Still isn't strong enough," she lamented, the mischievous smile still on her lips.

She had confessed that she was most anxious to learn how to defend herself, hence the reason for her knowing how to cast a weak stunning spell. "I think I know what you're missing," Jacob said. He showed her a slightly different grip and suggested on focusing her intent much more acutely. "Remember the spell is for defending yourself. Imagine it crashing through your opponent's chest."

Kaycee nodded while Hermione said, "I think we all could do with a bit of practice. We're all going to need as much as we can." Everyone nodded in agreement and they moved to the Room of Requirement. When the door appeared Kaycee jumped back with a surprised shout.

The others laughed at her surprise and Hermione explained how the room worked. They began practicing almost immediately, Hermione once again taking up the role of teacher for Kaycee. It was obvious that beyond most first year spells, she was nowhere near the level of the others. And as the session came to an end she vowed to practice until she was. She couldn't let down Harry because she was weak and couldn't keep up with him in his adventures (for she inherently knew that he was prone to adventures).

As they were leaving the Room of Requirement a wave of dread hit her like a freight train. She fell over flat onto the floor, which had quickly turned soft and spongy as she fell. Darkness enveloped her eyes and the grey stone floor spun from her vision. The still form of Harry taking quick, short breaths replaced the stone. Streetlights rolled by above him as he bumped along a dark highway in the back of a large truck. His head lolled from side to side as the truck hit bumps in the road. The truck hit one particularly large pothole and Harry's head hit the metal bed. He sat up quickly with a gasp just as Kaycee lost the connection to him. That image quickly left her as another more immediate one took its place. It was simple, disturbingly pure, but it made tears spill from her eyes. Her mother lay on her bed in the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey pulling a white sheet over her. Jaclyn's eyes were closed peacefully, her lips unmoving. The sheet did not flutter from her breath as it passed over her nose, past her eyes, to slide over the still-glossy hair until it covered her still body, entirely devoid of any life.

Kaycee's vision returned to her and she pushed off the floor with surprising speed and strength. "Mom!" she yelled with anguish as she raced past the others, "Mom, no!" The tears still fell as she ran down the empty hallways.

*

Harry sat up a pained gasp as his head was jostled against the truck bed from a pothole. The first thing he saw around him was men- uniformed men. Lots of them. They all turned to him as he sat up, eyeing him suspiciously. He felt just like they did. Glowing orange streetlights shone dimly through the material covering the back of the truck, and a strong chill told him it was nighttime.

The ranking officer, the one with the most pins and decorations on his clothes, leaned forward and addressed Harry, "What were you doing with the Americans? Are you one of them?"

Harry rubbed the back of his head, still not completely aware of where he was. "Am I one of who?"

"Them!" the officer demanded. "Whom do you belong to?"

"I don't understand what you mean," Harry said, trying to buy time. He had no idea who these people were. After all, the British had just started a war with American troops. They were already under Voldemort's control.

"Damn it, boy," the officer said, "We have your red haired friend. At least we think he's your friend. He is in a pretty bad state and if you want him to be taken care of you better give us some answers. We're all fighting for our lives and a stupid kid we rescued from a warzone isn't going to hide anything from us. Do you understand?"

Harry sighed sadly. They had Percy somewhere else. "You're taking care of him? Who are you fighting? Who are you? I don't know where I am."

The officer glared daggers at him, but gave in. "Bender Pitts, SAS," he said, gesturing to a patch that read 'Pitts' on his uniform. "And it seems we're fighting against everyone. We believe the government and most of the military has been taken over by wizards." He spat out the back of the canvas-covered truck and into the darkness outside at the word. "We were supposed to be the welcoming party for the Americans. The Prime Minister handpicked us for the job. Then after the assassination everything changed." He looked back towards Harry, "Now, who are you?"

"Just Harry," he replied. "Percy is my private tutor and we were working on a biology project for school. The Americans found us and they didn't trust us when we said we weren't trying to do anything. We were both on the base when the bombs started to fall." He hoped they would believe him. From the way Pitts had spat at the name 'wizard' Harry knew that he thought the wizarding society was acting as a whole to subvert the country. To these men, all wizards were bad.

"You're pretty far away from everything," Pitts said doubtfully.

Harry nodded, keeping up the lie. "We drove from the city." With a sudden stroke of inspiration, he said, "Is my car okay? My parents would kill me if it got damaged."

"Car's gone kid," another member of the SAS grunted from nearby. "Two kilometer radius completely destroyed."

"Just be happy you're alive." Pitts gave Harry one last look over, "I guess you're just a kid after all," he said with a sigh. "This motorcade is rolling towards London, we can leave you wherever you need to go along the way, your friend too."

"A hospital in London," Harry replied. "I have family that live in the city."

Pitts nodded, "That should be possible. We'll be there by morning. Just stay out of the way if anything happens until then."

Harry nodded, fervently agreeing with Pitts.

"We were able to pick up some of the Americans as well," Pitts said. "Those who were close by at any rate." He shook his head. "It's all bollixed anyways. I can't believe someone ordered to have them attacked."

"In the shitter," one of the other SAS grunted in agreement.

"That's why we're going to London," Pitts said. "Striking at the heart of the corruption. Once we get there we're going to cut the heads off of those stick-waving snakes."

Harry swallowed hard. "You think it's all of them? I mean, you think every wizard is bad?"

Pitts gave him a long look and then shrugged, "God knows I haven't seen any good ones. Might change my mind when I actually see someone fighting on my side. But until then, well, I'm more likely to shoot em' then ask if he's on my side. Seems to me that the wizards that were supposed to meet the Americans tried to kill them instead."

Harry nodded, his mind in racing at full speed. He had inadvertently become embedded with dissenting Muggle forces from the fallen government, of which the commander and many of the troops seemed to think that all wizards were trying to overthrow the government. He needed to find a way to fulfill their original goal, to establish a trusted communication with their Muggle allies. But was there a way to reveal himself without getting killed with all the prejudice they had?

The motorcade continued to travel through the night for a few hours, none of the soldiers saying half a sentence to Harry. He was able to visit Percy during a brief refueling stop and performed a few subtle healing spells on him to stabilize his condition, leaving his wand safe in his invisible holster as he did so. He hoped it would be enough for him to reach London alive. Using a Portkey was definitely not an option. It would kill him within seconds.

An hour after the refueling stop the breaks to the large truck squealed again, and the beams of floodlights shone through the thick tarp covering the bed like a flashlight through tissue paper.

"Just a regular security checkpoint, boys," Pitts said. "They'll wave us through like the others."

The back of the canvas tarp was lifted, revealing a soldier shining a flashlight at the faces of the men inside. The light froze when it came upon Harry, his round glasses and scar making the soldier's face contort in surprise.

"You," he said to Harry, "Come with me."

Busted. Harry rose slowly out of his seat, giving a significant look to Pitts who was a few seats down from Harry, towards the back. As he passed the soldier, he whispered quickly in his hear, "I was the wizard emissary. Get me and the Minister of Magic to London and we can connect you with the resistance."

Pitts' eyebrows rose as he took in Harry's words, but he nodded after a moment's hesitation. Harry let out a small sigh of relief and passed him. "You heard him boys," Pitts said, "Out, now!"

Every member of the SAS emptied out of the back of the bed along with Harry before the flashlight-wielding soldier could stop them. "Always happy to comply to ensure the safety of our roads, Private," Pitts said with a too-sincere smile at the soldier.

With a curt nod and hesitant salute, the private said with a wave of his hand, "This way."

The checkpoint was a small one, with only seven or eight guards visible to Harry's eyes. The soldier led the group to the commanding officer of the checkpoint, who was inside a quickly erected building, devoid of any windows.

The private who had discovered Harry snapped a crisp salute to the commanding officer, who quickly returned it. The officer spoke to Pitts, "SAS? Interesting that you boys are out here, but good job on finding him. We just got his picture, supposed to be a dangerous terrorist. Y'know, one of-"

The officer's words were quickly cut off as Pitts drew a pistol from his side holster and held it steadily at the commander's chest. "I don't know how deep you are in it, or if they're just using everyone, but the instructions you've been receiving can't be trusted."

The commander's eyes narrowed, but he remained unfazed. "And why do you think so? Pitts, is it?"

"That 'terrorist' compound destroyed this morning was actually American military. They were invited here, and then attacked. Seems to me that our government's policies on their welcome here changed pretty quickly."

The two men started each other down for a second, every other man in the room holding his breath at the scene. There were two other men inside the building with the officer, but they didn't dare to draw their weapons, for fear of his life. The scene was eerily silent, except for the artificial buzz of overhead fluorescent lights and the heavy breathing of the men inside.

The officer took Pitt's words into consideration. "I hope that isn't the case, but there is no way I can believe you over my orders. Now, safety and holster that firearm so we can resolve this without-"

An explosion rocked the building they were in and Harry's senses snapped into full awareness. A wave of heat and force shattered the glass doors behind them and sent fire roiling into the building.

"_Aguamenti!_" Harry shouted as he drew his wand, creating as much water as possible between the flame and glass and the people inside the building. The short burst of flame was stopped and took out its fury on the water, vaporizing some of it.

Through the steamy vapor, the men inside the building could see beams of light streaking at the trucks out of the darkness. Men, both SAS and the rescued Americans, quickly poured out to better shield themselves and returned fire towards the source of the colorful spells.

"They're here!" Harry shouted. "Death Eaters! Anyone with a mask is trying to kill you!" With that, he ran out into the fray, searching for Percy's vehicle while casting the Imperturbable Charm on himself to protect himself against stray bullets. It had worked well the previous day.

Behind him, Pitts yelled to the commanding officer, "We're on your side, as long as you're against wizards controlling your country. The commander nodded grimly to Pitts, and together they rallied the men inside the building and followed the strange young wizard into the fight.

The red glow that appeared around Harry seemed to attract the attention of the Death Eaters. Soon, numerous spells were directed at him, including the Unforgivables. A sudden realization struck him. If he stayed away from Percy then he would be keeping him as safe as was possible. Harry just had to make himself known and bide his time until the Order of the Phoenix responded to the casting of Unforgivable curses.

Spells were coming at him from across the road. He spotted a long cement flood barrier that was placed parallel to the road to protect the office building from stray vehicles. It was the perfect cover from the spellfire, Harry thought as he dove behind it.

As he landed, he realized that there were other men who must have thought the same thing about his flood barrier. One of them gave a surprised shout and jabbed the butt of his rifle at Harry's face. Luckily Harry had cast the spell strongly enough and the stock slid off the side of his face like two opposing magnets. "Careful!" he shouted over the gunfire around them, "I'm on your side."

The men behind the flood barrier ducked down to see their newcomer. All four men were marines, Harry noticed, and one man slid across the barrier to talk to him- the leader. The marine that had tried to hit Harry had a light rifle and a large pack on which Harry noticed was extra ammunition. On Harry's left was another marine, carrying a large, slightly bulky rifle with two stands on the front. The leader also had the assault rifle, but with some sort of thing attached below the barrel. The fourth man on the far right of the group was another marine with the same rifle as the leader, and the one with the backpack, but lacked both the pack and the thing on the barrel.

"Who the hell are you?" the Marine shouted over the tumult around them.

"Harry Potter!" he replied. "I was one of the three that met you this morning."

The man nodded in recognition. "The fighting one! Good!" He pointed to each man in the group. " You can help us. This is our fire team!" A spell whizzed over the group's heads and smashed into the building behind them, drilling a neat hole in the cinder blocks.

"Sheit!" the man with the backpack yelled as he looked at the hole.

"The…spells" the man said with a little hesitation, "Are coming from across the road. It's a one-sided attack, so we need to go around and hit those stick-wavers from the side! Our men are getting destroyed like this. We," he pointed to himself and the rifleman with no backpack, "Are going to move up and then you three will follow." He looked at the wand in Harry's hand with a quick glance, "What can you do for protection as we move?"

Harry knew he could Apparate behind the death eaters, but had learned from experience that trying to do things alone was a very bad idea. He liked the idea of a well-trained fighting team alongside of him. "Smoke!" Harry yelled as bits of cement flew at him from the flood barrier. It was getting heavily pounded by spellfire since the Death Eaters knew he was behind it. Luckily his spell kept any flecks of grey cement from his face and eyes. "Let me make smoke before you two move."

Harry moved back a little so he had an angle at the gap the fire team wanted to cross. He quickly cast a simple smoke charm to obscure the area, putting his magic into it heavily for a thick, billowing screen. The team leader nodded his thanks and the two men moved to the edge of the barrier.

The heavy machine gunner and the marine with ammunition peeked over the barrier and started firing at the spells, the large gun echoing its shots into the night like a woodpecker. The leader and other man moved up behind Harry's smoke and the team's supporting fire.

Together the five moved like that, first the two scouts, and then the gunner, his support man, and Harry. During every movement half the team provided fire while the others moved, always guarding the movement with a barrage of intimidating gunfire.

The four marines and Harry came to a particularly large gap that had to be spanned, so Harry created more smoke and the team leader used the attachement below his barrel. He aimed upwards over the lower cover they where behind and pulled a second trigger. A hollow _thwump_! sounded through the area, followed by a loud explosion off in the distance. Harry thought he could hear the screams of Death Eaters.

They quickly moved around the side of the battle, slightly behind the Death Eaters, and gained an edge on the wizards when suddenly dozens of loud 'cracks!' and 'pops!' rang through the night. "Careful!" Harry warned the four men around him, "If they don't have masks they're not the bad guys."

With the new arrivals the battle had changed. The masked wizards began their retreat, away from the lit road and into the darkness of the countryside, where Harry and the fire team had positioned themselves. The men started to Disapparate before they reached the hiding spot, so Harry began to cast stunning spells at them to prevent their escape. Five fell, and the Marines brought down four more before every masked wizard was gone, killed, or captured.

The group moved back to the roadblock to find a gaggle of men, half Muggle, half wizard. Healers were already moving among the men, dispersing potions and healing spells alike. Harry quickly directed one of the healers to Percy, who had been guarded during the fight by Pitts and his squad of SAS.

When Pitts saw Harry he turned to the boy and patted him on the shoulder, "Good show, that," he said by way of greeting. "I saw what you five did- very impressive."

Harry nodded to Pitts in thanks and then turned his attention to Percy and the healer. "How is he?" he asked.

"The Minister is going to recover," the healer said after casting a few spells. "He'll need the next available Portkey to Hogwarts as soon as I can stabilize him. Someone has already cast a few simple healing spells on him. Those spells saved his life."

"Quite a show here, Mr. Potter," said a voice from behind. Harry turned quickly, his wand at the ready. Behind him was the leader of the American auror group that arrived with the marines.

"I thought you were… dead," Harry replied lamely. "How did you get here?"

"I followed you after the convoy picked you up. I didn't know whose side they were on and kept track of you."

"You're one of the American wizards then?" Pitts asked. He introduced himself quickly, and then said, "I was in charge of the contingent that the Prime Minister sent to meet you. Unfortunately we didn't get there in time to do anything but rescue operations."

"I understand." Banks said, "At least we've finally made contact. Now all we need is a connection with the wizards here." They both looked at Harry, but he was too distracted watching the healer work on Percy.

"Harry! Harry, what are you doing here?" Remus Lupin ran towards the small group from the darkness, alongside of Tonks.

Pitts drew his pistol again as they approached, but Harry stopped the soldier from aiming it as they approached. "They're friends," he said in explanation. "Remus! Tonks! I'm glad to see you guys."

"How did you get here?" Remus asked. "We've been looking for you since this afternoon when you didn't return. Where are Percy and Kingsley?"

"Minister Weasley is right here," the healer said, "I've almost got him ready for transport to Hogwarts."

"And Kingsley?" Tonks asked.

"He's dead," Pitts said. "During the initial bombing."

Remus bowed his head and Tonks sat down heavily at the news. "Not more people," Remus said sadly.

Harry kneeled down next to Percy's bed, thinking hard at the last few days of his life. Had become so used to death that he had hardly realized that Kingsley had been killed. Had he wept for Kaycee's father at all? And just then, during the fighting, he had not blinked when the marines next to him had fired upon retreating Death Eaters, all of whom had gotten a quick look over by healers before being declared dead. Sure, he had chosen to use Stupefy himself, but his lack of reaction to their deaths stunned him.

"I've got to get back to Kaycee," Harry heard himself say, "I've got to go back to Hogwarts. And to Ron and Hermione- all of them!"

"Harry…" Remus began.

"Remus, this is Mr. Pitts of the SAS and Mr. Banks who came with the American soldiers. They're both leaders for the resistance that's starting to happen." Harry looked to Pitts, "This is Remus Lupin, the new ambassador for the Order of the Phoenix."

Remus looked shocked for a second about being named liaison for the Order, but quickly fell into the role, as he always did. "Can you handle yourself, Harry?"

Harry nodded, "It's very important that you talk and get organized. I think that's the only way of standing up to Voldemort and the government. He turned to the healer, still bent over Percy. "Is he ready to be moved by Portkey yet?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter. I was about to find someone who is able to make one, which could take a few minutes," he said with a frown as he looked over at the crowd. "I'll move him to where the others are also waiting to move to Hogwarts."

"I'll make it," Harry said as the healer moved Percy next to five or six Muggles who had been injured by the fight.

The healer's concentration almost faltered as he levitated Percy towards the others. "You, Mr. Potter? But you're only- ah yes. I do keep forgetting that you're Albus Dumbledore's apprentice."

Harry picked up a long, skinny branch that had fallen to the road during the fight and mumbled, "_Portus_." The stick glowed red and Harry laid it across Percy and the men waiting for transport. "Is that everyone?" he asked the healer, who nodded.

"Thank you for saving Percy." He activated the Portkey and disappeared from the checkpoint, to the wide eyes and gasps of many soldiers.

Harry arrived at the gates to the Hogwarts grounds and cast his stag Patronus to the castle to let McGonagall and Pomfrey know of his arrival. He waited patiently next to the unconscious men, still haunted over his lack of reaction to the pain and suffering of others. _Am I becoming cold-hearted_, he wondered silently. He didn't know the answer. Maybe Kaycee, or Ron and Hermione, would know. They would help him.

McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey came down quickly after his Patronus and escorted all of them directly to the hospital wing. It was empty, Harry noticed as they arrived. He thought to ask Madam Pomfrey of where Kaycee's mother was moved to, but quickly forgot to ask her as she checked him over.

He refused to stay the night, as she wanted him to do, saying that he was no longer a student, and slowly walked up to Gryffindor tower. He had to see his friends. Had to feel like he was capable of more than just hurting and killing people. If he could feel that for anyone, that love, it would be for Kaycee and his best friends.

*

Kaycee flung open the doors to the hospital wing and rushed to where Matt, Mrs. Weasley, and Madam Pomfrey were sitting by her mother's bed. A white sheet was draped over the body and Matt was sobbing in Mrs. Weasley's arms. Kaycee stopped running and approached the bedside slowly. She barely heard Madam Pomfrey make half-hearted protests at their presence, saying that, 'maybe, dear, that isn't such a good idea' as Kaycee lifted the sheet from her mother's face. But she didn't care. Her parents were dead, and it was all her fault.

She cried then, putting her arms around her mother's still figure. The others came in behind her, quieting as they entered the hospital wing, her sobbing telling them all they needed to know. She ignored them as they stood around her and Matt, providing a circle of protection for them as they mourned.

Madam Pomfrey drew her away after she had cried herself out and delivered her into the hands of her new friends. Night had fallen by then, the dark windows letting in minimal amounts of moonlight, and together they all went up to the Gryffindor common room to sleep, Matt included. Kaycee noticed through red-rimmed eyes that someone had thoughtfully brought comfortable looking cots up for them to sleep on instead of the floor like the first night they had spent at Hogwarts.

Matt chose a cot on the other side of the room, Hermione instead taking the one next to her. Kaycee took notice of it without reaction or even much of a thought, resigning herself to her new life alone, or almost alone.

Alone in the dark, Kaycee sent up a silent prayer for Harry's safety. She had told Mrs. Weasley everything she knew before she left her mother's side, who in turn had gone straight to McGonagall. She knew that she had done everything she could have done for Harry, but the prayer was something else that she felt she should do.

Within a few short days, an entirely new world had been revealed to her. She was learning about new forces in the universe, and she was learning how to control those forces. Kaycee had quickly realized that just because something wasn't visible or even tangible didn't mean it didn't exist. Who was she to say that God didn't exist as well?

After Kaycee finished her prayer for Harry she also tried to do one for her parents as well. She started a few times, but was unable to actually say anything. Instead she just broke down and asked, "Why, why?" in a whisper over and over, fresh tears falling down onto her pillow.

The portrait hole opened up, making a shaft of light cleave the darkness of the common room into two halves. No one stirred but Kaycee. They were already asleep, she thought. At the portrait hole surrounded by a halo of torch light from the outside corridor stood Harry, dirty and exhausted, but alive.

"Harry," she whispered as he moved towards her, walking along the shaft of light like a red carpet that led to a throne. He knelt down when he reached her cot and wrapped her in a tight embrace. She grabbed onto him, her buoy in a turbulent sea.

*

After a few minutes he pulled away and noticed the streaked tears on her cheeks. "What's wrong?"

"It's my mom…" Kaycee began. "She's, she's…" She couldn't say any more and began to cry again. Harry pulled her close and held her as long as she cried, never once pulling away from the death grip she had on him. His heart broke for her, having the same pain of losing both parents. He held her tightly letting her know that he was there for her but said nothing. There was nothing to say. Eventually Kaycee fell asleep, clutching him for strength as she dropped off.

Harry stood slowly and conjured another cot next to hers. Laying down he watched Kaycee sleep and thought about how much he cared for her. Maybe even loved her. His needs forgotten, he thought about what had to be done to help Kaycee adjust to losing her parents. He knew both Matt and Kaycee couldn't be alone, that they had to be shown that they had a future in the wizarding world. The only problem was in helping them realize it. With everyone else asleep and nothing besides his thoughts to keep him company, Harry tried to sleep. At first he thought it would be hard, but Harry found that he was exhausted and dropped off quickly.

The next morning Harry was woken by Ron, "Harry mate, you're back!"

Harry looked over to Kaycee and Matt, both of whom were still asleep, and held a finger in front of his lips. Ron nodded in understanding. Harry got out of his cot and followed Ron to the other side of the common room. "What happened out there, Harry?" he asked.

"Death Eaters happened," he replied. "And lots of other things too." Harry shook his head, remembering the fighting all too easily. "We're connected with the militaries now, at least the groups that haven't been fooled into following Voldemort."

"Blimey," Ron said eloquently. "He's got the please-men with him?"

"Not the police," said Harry, "The army and everything else."

"You!" a voice from across the room yelled. "It's all your fault!" Both Harry and Ron turned in surprise to see Matt standing on his cot, looking at Harry with complete loathing. Everyone jerked awake at his outburst.

"Matt," Kaycee started, "What're you-"

"It's _him_," Matt said to her. He turned to Harry, "It's your fault our parents are dead!" Matt leapt off his cot and ran to where Harry was. He looked up into Harry's face, which towered over him by more than a foot, and swung as hard as he could.

Instinctively Harry dodged the punch and backed away slightly. "Matt-" he started.

Mat moved forward and swung again, this time with open fingers. Claws that had not existed a second before raked across Harry's cheek, drawing blood.

"Matt, stop!" Kaycee yelled, running towards them. Matt ignored her protests and jumped towards Harry again, his inexplicable razor-sharp claws going for Harry's face.

"_Stupefy!_" Kaycee shouted. A red beam struck Matt in the back and sent him tumbling into Harry, who caught him and set him down easily on a nearby couch.

Hermione, Jacob, and Ginny came over to where the others were standing over Matt, watching his clawed hands slowly change back to normal.

"What was that?" Ron asked with wide eyes.

Hermione answered. "I think he's a Metamorphagus."

The revelation needed no other questions. Harry conjured a mirror to see the cuts on his cheek and began to heal them with a simple spell. Kaycee was torn between seeing if Matt was breathing well and if Harry was in pain from the cuts. Ginny and Jacob just stood silently, not knowing what to say.

The portrait hole opened to reveal McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley. "I see you are all awake." McGonagall froze as she saw Harry's injury and Matt's still figure lying on the couch. "What happened here?" Everyone jumped in to explain what had happened just a few minutes before. The cacophony of voices was unintelligible. McGonagall held up her hand and asked Harry to explain, which he quickly did.

"I think that Matt would do good with some training," McGonagall said. "I'll call Miss Tonks and see if she's willing to take on an apprentice. Metamorphagus training is very draining and it should keep his mind off of the tragedy he's experienced."

"What's a Metamorphagus?" Kaycee asked. "Is he going to be okay?"

McGonagall looked at Kaycee with saddened eyes. "A Metamorphagus is a witch or wizard who is capable of changing their appearance. The fact that Mr. Pearson is able to give himself slightly non-human characteristics means he's particularly talented." McGonagall looked at Matt again, sadness evident in her eyes. Harry was confused by her manner– her feelings for them seemed to constantly change. "As for his well-being," she continued, "he'll be fine. Difficult training with Miss Tonks should do him well."

"Well, maybe," said Kaycee, hesitantly. "I don't know this Tonks, though." Harry noticed that she was asserting herself as Matt's guardian and had been approving of her move. He was proud at the initiative she took for her brother. "Harry, what do you think?" Kaycee asked.

The question stopped him dead. She was asking for his advice on her brother's welfare. He looked at the girl he liked- no, he realized just then, the girl he loved. She was a girl who put her family before herself, who made him joyful even in the middle of a war, who was asking for his advice for her only remaining family member. She was giving Harry something priceless, her absolute trust. Right then, Harry knew; Kaycee was the girl he loved, and he would spend a lifetime repaying the gift that she had given to him freely.

He stared at her, his realization stopping his every thought. "Huh?"

"What should I do, Harry? I need your advice."

Harry looked to McGonagall, who seemed to disapprove slightly of Kaycee's initiative, and then looked back to Kaycee. "I think that Tonks would be good for him. He would love what she could teach him. Remember how he always likes to act like someone else?"

Kaycee's eyes started to shine wetly at the memory. "Yeah," she said with a choked laugh.

"I think this is why," Harry continued. "Being a Metamorphagus is probably going to be one of the best things in the world for him right now."

Kaycee nodded. "Thanks, Harry." She turned to McGonagall, "That sounds good, Headmistress. We think the training will be good for him."

Harry's heart swelled and his brain stopped again. We? Harry had never thought as anyone else as '_we'_ before. Kaycee and him, he and Kaycee, they were a '_we_.'

Mrs. Weasley levitated Matt to the hospital wing and the other teens were told to get breakfast in the Great Hall. The six moved down the hallways slowly, the grey morning doing nothing to liven their spirits. Harry held Kaycee tightly around the shoulders as she resolutely moved with them, one leg in front of the other. Harry had to stop himself from shaking his head in wonder. How could she still be moving after everything that had happened? He didn't know, but he was proud of her, proud of her strength. He gripped her waist strongly as she leaned against him for support and everyone entered the Great Hall, together again.


	12. Chapter 12

Regulus appeared in the master bedroom of his childhood home with a subdued _pop_! He took his first breath and a musty, rotting smell immediately assailed his nose. Moving to the door he tried to open it but noticed it was locked from the inside. Not wanting to alert anyone of his presence he cast a bubblehead charm on himself and turned from the door, taking in his parent's old bedroom for the first time.

The room was dirty and neglected with dust coating every flat surface, spider webs in the corners of the ceiling. A mirror stood on the dresser to his left, tarnished and so thickly coated with grime that nothing but a dull grey reflection came from it. An empty washbowl and brass pitcher stood on the nightstand, which had clawed legs. Next to the door was a small table with a half-gone candle and tarnished silver candle snuff. The handle of the snuff showed corrosion and the Black crest was barely discernable. The curtains of the four-poster bed in the center of the room were a dirty scarlet instead of the black or green that his mother used to prefer; probably the doing of his brother thought Regulus.

In all it was a sad sight to see the house of the Black family to be in such a state of waste. He could easily remember the prestige of his childhood, how Ministry officials constantly came for dinner parties, the sway his mother held with people in power, and the things that he was expected to do as a Black. He remembered how he was supposed to be better than others, an elite, and how he was supposed to disdain half-bloods and see mud-bloods– no he reminded himself, Muggle-borns– as something less than human. The prestige and superiority of blood was something that he believed in as a child, the preconceptions of which he still struggled with. While he knew now it was fake, nothing but a front for power, it was still tradition and a part of who he was. But what did it matter? Entire families being wiped out were becoming a common occurrence with Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Perhaps, when this was all over, Jacob would bring the Black legacy into respected and benevolent waters. He knew that his son was growing up to be a fine wizard and a fine man. When Jacob had a family he would raise his children right, free of the prejudices that Black had to contend with as a child. Besides that, he noticed that Jacob and the Weasley daughter were just beginning to explore a relationship. As much as Black tried to suppress it, he was happy that Jacob had chosen a pure-blood girlfriend.

Old prejudices die hard, he told himself.

But old prejudices could not overcome the sorrow he felt for the two Muggleborn children that had lost their parents. Matt and Kaycee were their names. The loss of their mother, so shortly after losing their father, had been almost too much for Regulus to bear when Jacob had told him. After all, the loss of Jacob's mother was the source of Regulus' rebellion against the Dark Lord.

_Regulus and Jacob had just returned home from getting ice cream at their favorite parlor– in France. Ice cream had become the two-year-old Jacob's favorite treat and so Regulus took his son when they got the chance. Whenever he was not working on a mission for the Dark Lord or busy with other business of the Black family they would Portkey to France for dessert. _

_It had to be France, of course, for if the Dark Lord knew he had a wife and son it would be disastrous. Regulus had fallen for a Muggle. Against all of his prejudices, all of the hate that had been bred in him from childhood, Amanda had won. Her kindness and compassion had cut through Regulus' hate. His inner cruelty had been countered with her love. _

_Jacob had quickly fallen asleep after eating his ice cream, so Regulus carried his son tenderly through the door to their small home. Night had fallen and Regulus was not sure if Amanda had already gone to bed. She has declined the trip to France, saying that she was tired from working in the garden all that day. _

"_Amanda," Regulus called softly after tucking Jacob into bed. "Manda are you awake?"_

_There was no answer. Regulus checked the bedroom, but she wasn't there._

"_Amanda, where are you?" He went into the living room. A slender arm peeked out from the other side of the couch. _

_Black rushed over to his wife's side. She was there; sprawled out on the carpet with moonlight touching her pale skin. Her eyes were closed peacefully as in slumber, and one arm was resting over her stomach. It was something she often did in her sleep. In fact, Amanda looked as if she were sleeping._

_Except for the blood. A crimson pool spread around her stomach, soaking happily into the beige carpet. Her mouth was slightly open, but no breath moved over her lips. Across her upper arm a snake was etched into her skin. The snake was not black like the Dark Mark but red, cut into his wife's skin with a knife. It was a way of claiming victims for the Dark Lord more subtly than the Mark… _

Regulus shook himself. He had to find the locket– not dwell on painful memories. Turning from the bed, back towards the door, his shoulder brushed the scarlet curtains of the bed. A swarm of flies seemed to materialize from nothing, blackening the air around Regulus' head. His face twisted in disgust and he moved quickly out of the swarm to cast a vanishing spell, which made the flies disappear. The spell disturbed the curtains again and this time thousands of small, black flies swarmed out from inside the bed, filling the air in the room with a ceaseless buzzing. Regulus groaned at the sight. Something must have died inside the bed and no one had come in to clean it up. Where was Kreacher?

Using some slightly dark vanishing spells (ones that had no issues with making living organisms permanently disappear) he quickly cleared the flies out of the room. The buzzing died with them, leaving Regulus in a deathly silence. Regulus was glad for his fresh supply of air as he cautiously approached the scarlet-draped bed, and was glad he could only guess how bad the smell was outside of his protective bubble. He cautiously pulled the drawn velvet back and peered inside the confines of the bed.

Flies were crawling over the rotting corpse of a house elf– thousands of flies crawling, eating, and buzzing. Some were carrying their pale, maggoty larvae inside the house elf's slightly gaping mouth and hollow eye sockets for food and warmth. They moved past the dry yellow teeth, swarming over the barely visible tongue and down into the elf's throat. The elf's eyes were shrunken, cloudy, and coagulated, allowing the insects to go around, down into the sockets and into the elf's skull. Its hair had all disintegrated or fallen out, leaving only a few wispy strands still in the flaking scalp. Regulus gagged. Just the sight was enough to make him feel sick. He was sure that the smell would have made him empty his stomach.

"What happened to you, Kreacher?" Regulus asked quietly.

One of the elf's hands was stretched above his head, towards the headboard of the bed. It seemed to be unusually preserved, compared to the rest of the corpse, the green skin almost completely untouched and devoid of any flies. Grasped tightly in the hand was a heavy silver locket; Kreacher's fingers clutching it desperately even in death.

Regulus sighed sadly, had the locket killed him after being in his possession for so many years? He knew that the elf had gone insane after drinking Voldemort's potion in the cave, but did the evilness of the locket take his life as well?

After a moment Regulus reached out to try and pry the locket from the elf's fingers. He felt his stomach begin to boil again as he touched the cold, dead flesh, but resolutely ignored his nausea. Leaving the locket was not an option. Regulus was glad that he did not need to search for it. He had expected that the elf would have hidden it in the attic or basement in his madness. Taking it from a dead hand was much easier, if a bit more disgusting.

Regulus twisted the locket harshly and it broke away with a sickening crunch of fingers. Gagging again at the sound of brittle, breaking bones, Black slipped the locket into his robe pocket and was about to cast a vanishing spell on the body when a raspy, deathly voice rang through the small, velvety enclosure of the bed.

"The master does not like thieves."

Black looked down to see Kreacher's eyes gazing blankly back at him, flies and maggots swarming over the leathery face. Flies spewed from Kreacher's mouth when he spoke, hitting the bubble around Black's head and swarming in the air. Black felt some begin to crawl down the front of his chest, underneath his robes, and he fell back with a startled scream. The red velvet ripped off the brass links and fell to the ground with him, covering the horror that was Kreacher's reanimated corpse from his vision.

"You have stolen from the master."

Black heard a soft thump on the floor beside him, and he pushed back from the bed with his legs. The heavy velvet was trapping him, smothering him with a bloody color that made him panic. He could hear Kreacher's unnecessary raspy breath and imagined the flies still spewing out of his mouth when his useless lungs deflated.

With a scream Black threw the velvet cover off of him. Kreacher was there at his legs approaching him with a determined slowness, flies and maggots falling off of his body as he stepped closer. Black lashed out with a foot and sent the dead elf flying to the side. Kreacher slammed into the dresser with a loud _thump_ but stood up unfazed.

"The master does not like you."

Black scrambled to his feet and drew his wand. "_Incendio!_" he shouted, pointing his wand at Kreacher. The fiery spell shot toward the elf but was deflected at the last moment, setting the bed on fire. Black's eyes widened. Inferni couldn't use magic.

"The master wishes those he does not like to die."

A sharp crack sounded through the room and Regulus was sent flying into the wall behind him. He slumped down onto a dresser next to the door, sitting on it like a little child.

"The master wishes you to die."

Then again, Inferni couldn't talk either. Regulus leapt off of the dresser and dodged another spell from Kreacher. The small elf was slowly moving towards Regulus, stepping over the bed's torn velvet curtains. Regulus banished the curtains from under Kreacher who fell on his face. Black heard the cartilage in the long nose crunch from the impact.

Seizing the opportunity Black leapt at Kreacher, summoning the brass pitcher from the bedside table. He caught the pitcher in his left hand and brought it down, smashing it into the elf's head. Blood and grey matter splattered onto the wood floor, but the elf continued to struggle to its feet. Regulus jabbed his wand in the elf's back and said, "_Incendio!_" This time the elf did not block the spell and he burst into flames.

Black leapt back from the inferno and regained his composure as Kreacher burned. He removed the flies that were crawling on the inside of his robes as the elf's screams fought against the roaring inferno that engulfed him. Kreacher seemed to burn forever, wandering around the room like a flaming marshmallow on a skewer. A few times Black had to back away if Kreacher got too close, pulling his robes behind his back to protect them from a wayward tongue of flame.

Eventually Kreacher stopped screaming fell to the floor. Black doused the flames and prodded Kreacher with his foot. The soggy black skin peeled away where the boot touched it, but Kreacher stayed still. Black let out a breath. The horrible creature was dead– doubly so.

A fist pounded on the door. Black did not answer it, and instead summoned the silver candle snuff he had spotted earlier. It zoomed from its spot on the ground into Regulus' hand. "_Portus_," he said quietly. The snuff glowed red before turning back to dull grey. He tossed the snuff on Kreacher's black body before twisting and Apparating away himself. He saw the door blow inward just before the void covered his senses.

*

Kaycee moved automatically. She clung to Harry and was led to the breakfast table in the Great Hall. Her mouth moved methodically, chewing the meal without tasting it. She was the last one in her family to be unscathed from the war. Kaycee alone was still alive and functioning. It was ironic, her being the only one, since it was her that brought the doom upon her family. She had made the decision to have Harry stay, which caused a chain of events that led her to this morning, an orphan and outcast of the world. It was her fault her parents were dead. It was her fault that Matt hated Harry when before Harry was his hero. Everything– it was all her fault.

She put down her spoon with a clatter and began to sob into her tasteless porridge. Immediately Harry's arms went around her. "Harry– let's go somewhere else." She turned to look at him, and through watery vision could see his concerned face. How could he feel like that after she had done? The tears came faster and she couldn't control the gasping noises coming from her throat. "It's all my fault!" she cried, "How can you be so nice to me?"

Harry wrapped his arms around her shoulders again and gently pulled her up. To the others he said, "We're going to go up to the dorms. See you later."

Kaycee had stopped crying by the time they arrived and was already tired. Harry was still there, holding her waist tightly as they walked, always providing a comforting presence. She didn't deserve it, Kaycee knew. Harry deserved better than someone like her, one who could bring her family to ruin with so little thought. The burning house came to her mind again. She had never told him and had vowed that she never would.

Her thoughts wandered to the secret that Harry had kept from her. The thing that Hermione, Ron, and the others refused to speak about. Kaycee pushed him away. "I don't deserve this, Harry. I don't think I deserve you."

Harry came back to wrap her in an embrace. She fell into it. "I would say the same thing about you Kaycee. I don't think I deserve you either." He paused, looking like he had more to say but was suddenly regretting it.

"What?"

"…I know what it is to lose someone and I also know how to push people away. That's what I did when Sirius died. I think I would have done the same when Professor Dumbledore but, err…"

"What?" Kaycee asked again.

"But then I met you in that bedroom." Kaycee didn't answer. "You broke through to me, Kaycee. In fact I think you saved my life, in a way. That's why I don't deserve you. And that's why you deserve every bit and piece of me."

A few more tears fell as Kaycee hugged him tighter.

"This morning you referred to us as 'we.' You asked my about Matt's training with Tonks. I think I realized then that I loved you."

Kaycee went stiff when she heard him. "What did you say?"

"M-maybe this wasn't the best time to say it or anything but–"

"Say it again," Kaycee said.

"I, uh– I love you?" Harry replied hesitantly.

Harry's words caressed Kaycee's spirit just as much as his arms caressed her body. It was hesitant, shy, and a bit awkward, but the effect of his words weren't lessened. She relaxed into him and melted into his side. She let out a shaky sigh and the tears stopped. Inside she still felt horrible, wretched, but Harry's declaration gave her hope. He loved her. And she loved him.

She knew it when Harry had left to help Ron's brother the day before and had not come back until midnight. When he had opened the portrait and stood tall and strong, light surrounding his form as he searched the dark room for her, she knew.

"I love you, too."

Harry let out a small breath and pulled her tighter. They sat down on the couch and Kaycee came up beside him, putting her head on his shoulder. "I saw a burning house that night. When you were about to leave, you know? It was on fire, and I could feel the heat from it."

When Harry said nothing she continued, "I knew something horrible was going to happen to my family but I stopped you anyways. What kind of person does that?"

After a pause, Harry asked, "What would have happened if I had left that night? Do you know?"

"I would have been safe but I wouldn't have lived fully. But that doesn't matter. I was selfish. I– I thought this would be an adventure!" Kaycee could feel the tears begin to come again.

"Shh," Harry said, cradling her as she leaned on him. His arms were strong, wrapping around her slender figure protectively. For Kaycee, one thing shone through the despair she felt – the knowledge that Harry was there sharing her pain, helping her though it. She would do everything she could to repay him.

They sat there on the couch for a time, neither speaking. Kaycee had calmed down and regained some control over her emotions. Her sadness had been replaced by something quiet. The colors of the room around her seemed to fade away into a blurry fog and Kaycee could feel her thoughts begin to shut down. Apathy and indifference slowly overtook her and she had a sudden urge to be alone.

"Harry I think I want to be alone now." Kaycee sat up and looked at him.

Harry looked at her with sorrow. "You sure?"

"Yeah. You had a rough day yesterday. Go talk to Ron about it."

"But–"

"I'll be okay, I just need to think things through a bit. You need comforting just as much as I do, and I'm not in any state to give it to you. I'll find you guys in a few hours."

Harry sighed. "Okay. Just remember– both of my parents–"

"I know."

"I can understand a bit of what you're going through."

"I know…"

After he left Kaycee distantly wandered up to the girl's dormitories, not paying attention to where she went. She stumbled across the door labeled 'Sixth Years' and pushed her way inside. This would be her home next term and figured she should get settled. There was an empty bed, devoid of any personal belongings on the far side of the room and Kaycee collapsed on it and curled up, not bothering with covers.

Suddenly she felt so alone, regretting her decision to make Harry leave. She closed the curtains around her and then closed her eyes. Her parents' faces floated in her mind's eye, their smiling lips, bright eyes, and loving voices comforting her as best they could.

The comfort was meager, barely a shadow of what it would have been to actually see them alive and well. She began to shiver at the thought of them, despite the summer heat. She hugged her knees to her chest as she began to sob again, and this time the onslaught of sadness was not lessened by Harry's calming presence. The shadows grew longer and the sunlight weaker, but Kaycee could not summon the energy to rise and find Harry, as she had promised hours earlier.

Sleep began to overtake Kaycee's tears. Distantly, through the fog in her thoughts, she welcomed sleep. Perhaps dreams could comfort her better than cold memories.

*

Harry stopped by the hospital wing to visit Percy and Matt. Besides the two patients he was surprised to find Remus and Banks also inside, conversing quietly with Percy. The three men looked his way when the door shut rather noisily behind him.

Percy was the first to talk, "Harry, it's good to see you're alright. How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Harry said, approaching them slowly. "Ron and Mrs. Weasley will be thrilled you are awake already."

"Mum has already been by. She'd still be here if I didn't have important issues to discuss with Remus and Mr. Banks here. Thank you for getting everyone together after the attack yesterday. You went above and beyond, Harry."

"Quite the show," Banks grunted. "Pitts was telling me all about it after you disappeared with the Minister. Also said that you talked your way out of trouble when you first came around in the truck."

"It had to be done," Harry replied, shrugging uncomfortably. There hadn't been any other choices available to him. "How are you doing, Percy?"

"Between Madam Pomfrey and the healer after the fight I'll be walking around by tomorrow. Should be just in time for the wedding."

"What wedding?" Harry asked in surprise, his eyebrows shooting up into his hair.

"Bill and Fleur's wedding. It's going to be here instead of the Burrow for safety reasons, and it was postponed after… after dad, but they're still determined to go through with it," said Percy with a hint of proud approval in his voice.

"Wow…" Harry said, taking it in. He had forgotten about Bill and Fleur's wedding, but was happy they were still going through with it. It was a way of rebelling against Voldemort, and anything that was against Voldemort Harry liked.

"But we'll have time to talk about that tomorrow," began Remus, cutting into the conversation. "Now. We thought that you might want to hear what has been done since yesterday."

Harry couldn't keep the surprised look off of his face. "You're going to tell me what's happening with the war?"

"The three of us thought you deserved to know. Mr. Pitts had a word with us after you left about your importance in this war. He told us his ability to read people and their importance was something of a talent of his; and apparently he really likes you," said Banks seriously.

"Not that we would've kept you out of the loop otherwise, Harry," Percy put in. "I think that you more than deserve being updated on stuff like this. You might have another very serious role in the war before the end and we would like you to be informed."

_All too true_, Harry thought sadly. "What does Professor McGonagall and the Order have to say about all of this?"

"She would like to talk to you about that tomorrow after the wedding," said Remus. "I think you'll appreciate what she has to say, as well."

Harry nodded. "So what _has _happened since yesterday?"

"The most important thing that's happened is that we've reorganized. All of our Aurors and fighting members of the Order have begun to merge with the Muggle fighting forces, which include Pitts' SAS and the uninjured U.S. Marines. Major Curtis will be joining us here at Hogwarts as soon as we find a way to actually let him in. We have to talk with the Headmistress about tweaking the wards a bit.

"On the Muggle side of things the Americans are rather angry at us–"

"To say the least," Percy interjected dryly.

Remus' eyebrows tightened a bit. "Yes, well. They're accusing, quite correctly, that the U.K. invited Marines over to help keep the peace while Voldemort's government is claiming that it was an invasion of our soil."

"So where are all the Americans now?" Harry asked, thinking of the men that he had fought with before the Order showed up.

"That's actually one of the things that we need to ask you about, and one of the things that makes you a key player in the war," began Percy. "The Order has found the perfect place to house all of the Muggle troops. It's defensible, large enough to hold everyone and more, and is open enough to train everyone with new Muggle/wizard tactics."

"That's great," said Harry, " Where?"

"The Dumbledore ancestral castle," said Remus.

Harry gave a little 'hmm,' looking confused. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Dumbledore left the castle to you, along with a vast majority of his possessions," Percy replied.

"He amended his will a few weeks before the Battle of Hogwarts," added Remus.

At the mention of Dumbledore's name Harry had a sudden urge to seek out Kaycee, but fought it. She wasn't in any condition to give him comfort. He gave a start when he remembered that he was supposed to be finding Ron to do just that, not be involved in more strategizing. "That's fine," said Harry. "I want to see it though– the castle and the training and everything that's happening there."

"Of course," said Remus. "It _is_ yours, after all."

Harry waved the comment off, "I really don't care if it is mine or not, as long as it's being put to use." He looked around the room, noticing Matt's still unconscious form on the bed and wished he could talk to him like they used to. "Was there anything else? I want to visit Matt and then see Ron and Hermione."

"That's it, Harry," said Remus. "I'll talk to you after the wedding and we'll plan a trip to go see the castle.

Harry nodded and excused himself from the three leaders of the war effort. After visiting Matt quickly, not saying anything half out of guilt and half out of practicality, Harry turned to leave.

"Harry," Remus called just as he was about to push through the door, "How did you meet Jacob and his father; Reggie is his name?"

"They're helping me with Dumbledore's task," Harry said, pushing his way out, "I can't really say anything more beside that they're as trustworthy as the Mrs. Weasley. See you tomorrow at the wedding."

Harry walked out of the hospital wing, leaving behind three men that were not used to being dismissed so easily. "So it's finally happened," said Remus.

"What's that?" asked Banks.

"The kids– they've grown up."

*

Harry woke the next day to bright sunlight filtering in through the stained glass windows of the boys' 7th year dormitories, lighting up motes of dust like torches before striking a darkly stained dresser. He smiled at the thought of Bill and Fleur's wedding later in the day and jumped out of bed, almost brimming with energy. The happiness that radiated into his being felt strange to him, something that he had not felt since waking up the morning of the hike with Kaycee and her family.

The bubble of joy inside him wavered violently. _Best not to think about Kaycee's family today,_ Harry thought resolutely. That would be dealt with another time, on another day. Today was a celebration.

"Ron, Jacob! Get your arses out of bed!" He threw pillows at the other boys before turning to change into his freshly laundered dress robes. Ron and Jacob rolled out of their beds much more slowly, grumbling and groaning about the time of morning.

"Just remember that you're a groomsman today, Ron. Bill needs you."

"Yeah, I know," Ron mumbled sleepily, "But you could have been nicer at getting me up." 

"Nothing else works," Harry said with a laugh as he finished tying his trainers, "I'll see you down at breakfast."

Kaycee was waiting for him in the common room, and Harry's eyes widened as he took her in. She was wearing a sky blue sundress streaked elegantly with silver that twinkled metallically as she moved. In her hair was a matching band of woven silver, holding her golden hair out of her face and over her ears. On one wrist were small silver bracelets, small and loosely banded together.

"You're beautiful," Harry said.

Kaycee smiled shyly and twirled, making the bottom of her dress flare out and the silver streaks gleam. "And you're quite handsome."

Harry proffered his arm and she took it, heading out through the portrait hole and down towards the Great Hall for breakfast.

"I couldn't find you yesterday," Harry said as they walked.

Kaycee nodded. "I err… fell asleep after you left. Hermione woke me up this morning and told me Ron's brother was getting married today. I was kind of shocked to hear that," she said with a laugh.

"Yeah, no one even remembered to mention it to us before yesterday. Everything was so busy. It still is."

Hermione and Ginny were already seated at the Gryffindor table and Ron and Jacob came down not long after Harry and Kaycee arrived.

The six of them talked about the wedding and other light, enjoyable topics, even Kaycee. It seemed to Harry that everyone had agreed to treat the day as a respite from the war, to pretend that it didn't exist so that they could give Bill and Fleur the best wedding that was possible. Kaycee in particular was smiling brightly at a story Ginny was telling her, laughing when Ginny explained the many humorous combinations of shrinking potions and her brothers' clothes. The boys, Harry included, winced at a few of Ginny's musings.

At first Harry was worried that Kaycee was trying to hide all of the troubles in her life with a false and forced happiness; a prettier, more complicated version of Harry's emotional bottling. Noticing his worried looks, she leaned closer to him and whispered, "This is their day as much as Bill and Fleur's. I'm not going to ruin it with my grief, even if it hurts me to fake a smile." Harry sighed and nodded. That's why he felt so happy when he had gotten up, wasn't it? This was their day to be happy as much as it was Bill's day to get married. Harry squeezed Kaycee's hand under the table and kissed her on the cheek. She smiled at him, although her upturned lips did nothing to break the sadness in her eyes.

Ron had to leave shortly after to get ready for the ceremony, after promising Harry that he would pass on Harry and the other's greetings and wishes of luck, the latter being _mostly_ humorous.

The wedding was a small affair, with only the habitants of the castle present, bolstered by a few select Order members. Professor McGonagall presided over the bonding of the wands, acting as a conduit that tied Bill and Fleur's magic together, merging it slightly. Hermione had explained that the ceremony could be performed by anyone with sufficient power and that the marriage was legal as long as the bond was done correctly.

A reception was held directly after the wedding ceremony, tables groaning under the weight of food provide by the Hogwarts kitchens. Other round tables with chairs surrounded a small, conjured dancing floor. The floor seemed to be made of crystal, hovering just above the green lawns of Hogwarts of its own volition. Another wide square of crystal ran around the perimeter of the dancing floor, sitting on the lawn normally and providing a step to the floor, but never actually touching it.

Bill and Fleur shared their first dance as husband and wife, and then Bill danced with his mother as Fleur did her father. Then the floor was opened to all guests as food was served.

Harry saw Kaycee eyeing him as he ate his food. Did she want to dance with him? He remembered the Yule ball in fourth year, and was grinning in despite of himself. Kaycee wasn't Parvati, or even Cho. She was someone much better. He leaned over to her, "Dance with me?" The brightness in her face answered his question and he jumped up and took her hand. Unlike Parvati, he couldn't wait to dance with Kaycee.

Luckily the song, which Harry just realized didn't seem to actually be coming from anywhere, but instead everywhere, was a slow one. He wrapped his hands around her waist and she slung hers over around his neck. She tucked her head under his as they slowly rotated to the song, along with Bill and Fleur and others. Harry was happy to see that Ron and Hermione had followed them out to the floor.

"This is nice," Harry heard her sigh. "I'm just as thankful for today as everyone else."

Harry agreed with her full-heartedly.

"Harry," Kaycee asked hesitantly in his ear, close enough that the faintest whisper was clear, "Yesterday, Hermione and the others were talking about something. They mentioned trinkets, something that had to do with you and the war. Everyone said that you were the one who had to tell me."

At her words, Harry's step faltered and he narrowly avoided stepping on Kaycee's feet. He said nothing for a time, then, "I had hoped that I didn't need to tell you this. I'll tell you everything tomorrow when we're training. It's too long of a story otherwise."

"Okay." They danced for a few more steps. "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"I love you, and I will stay with you, no matter what happens."

"I love you, too," he replied, holding her even closer, knowing that tomorrow would test Kaycee's resilience more than anything else.

*

The day after the wedding was a return to the normal for Kaycee – as normal as things currently could be in her life. As normal as magic, deaths, grief, secrets, and danger could be. Everyone was in the Room of Requirement, including Jacob's father who was holding a heavy silver locket in a gloved hand.

Harry and Mr. Black began explaining everything to Kaycee, from start to finish. The prophecy, the true reason for his parent's death, Voldemort's desire to live forever, and the Horcruxes that he had created to achieve that goal.

Kaycee was speechless by the end of it. _A secret indeed_, she thought. "You're the only one who can kill him?"

Harry nodded sadly, resigning himself to her judgment. "I had no right keeping that from you. Now you know the true reason I wanted to leave that night."

Kaycee nodded, not saying anything for a moment. It the situation wasn't so serious she may have laughed at Harry's resignation. She had told him the day before that she would be with him till the end and he still thought that she might abandon him. "I guess there's nothing to do but stick even closer to you, then. I want to be there when Riddle dies. I would call him a bastard, but that would be too correct to be a proper insult, wouldn't it?" Kaycee was immensely amused that Voldemort was a half-blood.

Harry raised his head and looked at her, "Really?"

She had pity on him and said seriously, "I've already told you that I'm going to see this through till the end. He killed my parents, and I want to see him pay. The fact that you're the one who's going to do it doesn't make one bit of difference."

"Now that that's settled," Regulus broke in dryly, "We have a rather important matter to take care of." He held up the locket. "This is Slytherin's locket, which was in safekeeping for me by Kreacher. Unfortunately, Kreacher is now dead."

"Good riddance," Ron mumbled. Hermione smacked him in the arm.

"He was a victim of his circumstances, Ron!"

"Maybe, but he was still a horrible little creature… Kreacher… whatever." Kaycee bit back a laugh as Hermione growled in frustration.

"Whatever he was," Black continued, "He's dead now, and we have the locket. I'm going to show you all how to destroy one." The room expanded suddenly, becoming a long hallway lined with marble columns. Black carelessly threw the locket to the other side of the room, a good fifteen meters away.

"Think you all can hit that with a spell?" They nodded, Kaycee hesitantly. She had been practicing hard since daybreak, long before anyone else had risen from bed. By the time anyone else had finished breakfast she had gotten three hours of practice and then continued on through the day until Regulus had arrived. "Good. Now, the spell to destroy a Horcrux is surprisingly simple. It's called _Avada Kedavra_."

Kaycee frowned as everyone else gasped. She wasn't familiar with that spell. _But then again, how many do you actually know_? Not nearly as many as the others she thought ruefully. "Excuse me, but I don't know what spell that is."

"It's the killing curse," Ron managed to say through a strangled throat.

"You don't actually expect us to learn that, do you?" Hermione added.

"So it's a curse that kills? That's all it does?" At the other's nods, she said, "Well I would like to learn it. It sounds easier to use than a cutting curse to the throat, right? And we're in war."

"You don't understand," Harry began but Kaycee cut him off.

"Actually I think I understand perfectly. It was the killing curse that killed my dad, right? The green one?" Harry nodded sadly. "Then I do understand. This war could very well spread across the entire world and you want to keep using stunning spells?"

Regulus looked at Kaycee with something akin to respect. "You're very wise for someone your age."

"We can't use the killing curse or else we'll be just as bad as the Death Eaters!" Hermione exclaimed. "We just can't!"

"I think we should," Jacob put in, and Kaycee nodded her agreement. Everyone looked to Harry, who, Kaycee just noticed, was watching her carefully.

"No," he said finally. "It isn't what the curse does, it's how you cast it. Crouch told us this back in fourth year. The Unforgivables require hate. You must _want_ to torture someone to use the Cruciatus, just like you must _want_ to kill someone to use _Avada Kedavra_." He turned away from Kaycee to Regulus, "We're not going to learn it."

"Very well," Regulus said with a slight bow of his head. He took up a dueling stance, turning his body sideways against the locked to minimize his profile and pointed his wand at the Horcrux steadily. "_Avada Kedavra!_" he said, and a green spell rushed out of his wand and struck the locket. It exploded in a ball of flame and everyone felt the heat, despite the distance. "It seems we must find an alternative way for you to destroy them. I can't be left to do it myself."

"Why not?" Ron asked. "Whenever we find the last two Horcruxes we can bring them to you."

"And what if I die?" Regulus said coldly. "What if you find Nagini or Ravenclaw's quill without me and you only have one chance to destroy it?" Everyone was silent.

Then Ginny spoke up in a quiet, almost scared voice, "Gryffindor's sword."

"What?" Regulus asked turning to her. "What about it?"

"Harry killed the Basilisk with it, and then used the fang to stab the diary. I've always wondered why he didn't use the sword."

Everyone turned to Harry, who shrugged uncomfortably. Kaycee had not been told this story. And what in the world was a Basilisk? "The sword was a bit too far away for me to reach and the fang was conveniently, um… close at hand."

"That could work," Black muttered to himself. "Slytherin's rival… and the sword _is _powerfully magical."

"McGonagall has it," Harry said, breaking off Regulus' musings. "She won't give it to me. She can hardly stand the sight of me for some reason."

"I thought she was going to talk with you later," Hermione said.

"She is, and Remus said I would like what she had to say, but I dunno."

"Go and see what she has to say," Regulus said, "And ask her if you can borrow the sword for an extended time." He looked at the blackened mark centered around the undamaged locket on the other side of the room. "I didn't expect to find a solution so quickly. We could have tested the sword to be sure." He shook his head. "No matter, it is the best chance we have."

*

Harry climbed the spiraling steps to McGonagall's study and knocked. "Enter!" said the Headmistress' voice from the other side.

Harry stepped in, finding McGonagall sitting at her desk across the room. "Thank you for coming, Mr. Potter, I know you're busy."

Harry nodded warily and sat down. "You wanted to see me, Headmistress?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter." She paused and visibly gathered herself. "I feel I owe you an apology Harry, if I may use your first name." Harry nodded. "These past months I have been foolish in my treatment of you." She sighed as if a weight was lifted from her chest. "Responsibility over so many lives has a way of blinding one to the needs of an individual…"

"Professor Dumbledore said much the same thing, Professor," Harry said, watching her.

"Indeed. It is a separateness, being in command, and one that has blinded my eyes towards your maturity most of all, Harry. I knew you since you were just a baby and it is hard for me to accept that not only are you grown, but more important to this war than even I am.

"Yesterday at the wedding I was watching you and your Kaycee dance when Remus approached me. He looked at you two dancing and said to me, 'It seems that a torch has been passed.'" McGonagall looked tired, just as Dumbledore had been, but much less so from when she had begun her apology. "That is exactly what has happened, Harry. It is your generation that will finish this war. I can feel that. As much as I hate to say it, you are the one carrying the torch for all of us now. I hate that you have to be the one to do it, but that is how events have turned out."

Harry nodded slowly, "Thank you, Professor. That means a lot to me."

McGonagall smiled, the tiredness fading on her face to something barely visible. "Now, all I need to ask is how I can assist you. Is there anything I can do at all to help you in your charge from Professor Dumbledore?"

"Actually," Harry said, eyeing the ruby-encrusted sword in a glass case behind McGonagall, "There is. I need to borrow the sword of Gryffindor for a while."

McGonagall eyed Harry incredulously before sighing, "This what I get for making a blind promise." She turned around and unlocked the glass case with a wave of her wand. She handed Harry the sword, still in its scabbard, "Take good care of it, Harry."

He nodded and strapped it around his waist. It was very heavy and made his walk awkward. "Thank you, Professor. I'll have it back to you as soon as I can."

He lumbered down the stairs and made his way to the Room of Requirement, where Kaycee insisted everyone but Harry stay to train. He smiled at her dedication and about how well she had taken the news of the prophecy. "She's an amazing girl," he said to himself, thinking of her golden hair and smiling eyes.

The scabbard of Gryffindor's sword caught on a suit of armor and tugged Harry around. He tried to brace himself on the empty suit, but only succeeded in taking it over with him, the heavy metal tumbling down on top of him, sharp bardiche and all. The weapon clattered to the floor next to his head while the breastplate toppled on top of his chest, knocking the air out of him. "Bullocks," he wheezed, and pushed the suit off with intense effort. Scrambling to his feet he glared at the sword on his hip and cast, "Reparo!" on the armor.

"Bloody sword…" The bottom of the scabbard caught on a step and Harry stumbled, barely catching himself on the railing and keeping his balance. He shook his head and almost regretted that Ginny had thought of the sword at all. "Bloody sword!" he said again, this time with vehemence.

*

Kaycee's eyes opened to see Hermione once again hovering over her, looking worried. Giving Hermione a smile she bounced back to her feet, ready for another attempt at casting a shield that was actually strong enough to hold back Hermione's stunner. She was almost there.

The door to the Room of Requirement opened to reveal a red-faced Harry, breathing hard, with a sword strapped awkwardly to his hip. As he stepped in the sword caught on the door, seemingly of its own accord, and spun Harry around. Kaycee laughed as her boyfriend teetered on his heels before falling backwards. The room responded to his need and a cushion appeared to soften his fall. When she saw he was okay her laugh increased and she doubled over. "H-have you been fighting that sword all the way here?" she gasped out. "You looked angry even before-" she couldn't say anymore and had to suck in a breath.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said with a knowing grin, "Don't you know that almost all wizarding weapons are enchanted? Gryffindor owned that sword, the founder of the house most notorious for pranks and practical jokes."

Harry's eyes widened with shock, "So I'm the victim or a prankster a thousand years dead?"

"Not only a prankster," Ron put in, "The best prankster of them all – the man who started it all. Even I know that."

Hermione smiled at Ron proudly. "Gryffindor was known to regularly prank the students of his house when Hogwarts was first founded. It's a tradition that has never died."

"But when I killed the Basilisk in the chamber it never did anything like this!"

"I don't expect Gryffindor would want anyone to die from a prank," Jacob put in. "He was noble, remember?"

Harry grimaced at the sword, "I'm not so sure about that. An axe almost split my skull on the way over here because of this thing." He stumbled as the sword inexplicably caught on a crack in the stone flooring, since its tip hung a span above the floor.

"How does this bloody thing get caught on the _floor_?" he asked angrily.

Kaycee, who had been trying to reign in her laughter, began anew, wiping away the tears that formed in her eyes. "Oh, Harry," she said with a sigh, small laughs still escaping her.

He glared at her, then his expression cleared and his lips held a rueful smile. "I guess it is pretty funny."

Suddenly an idea struck Kaycee. "Have you tried actually using it, Harry? Y'know, swinging it around and stuff? Maybe it just needs to get to know you."

Everyone else chuckled, and Harry smiled despite himself. "Not yet." He drew the sword and it rang dully as it cleared its scabbard. Kaycee felt her breath catch in her throat. Harry holding the sword steadily in his hands– he was like a knight. Like her strong, brave knight. She wanted him to hold her like that, steady and safe in his arms. She wanted to feel him holding her with strength and confidence like he had at the wedding. And she wanted to kiss him soundly, alone; strong hands holding the back of her neck, holding her lips to his.

Then her fantasy burst as Harry fumbled the sword and it fell into the stone, point-first. "Bloody sword!" Harry growled in frustration.

With an effort Harry pulled the sword out of the floor where the tip left a deep gouge.

"Wow," Ron said. "D'you want me to call you King Arthur from now on?"

"Shut up," replied Harry, sheathing the sword smoothly.

"Harry," Kaycee said, "Try drawing it again." Harry did, just as smooth as the first time, but this time the note that came from the blade was pure as crystal. He didn't drop it, and swung it around experimentally.

"Seems okay now," he said cautiously. A wooden mannequin appeared in front of him, courtesy of the room, and Harry swung the sword. It cleaved through the wood, against the vertical grain, and the top half of the dummy slid off at the waist and clattered to the ground.

"Wow," Ron said again, this time with more than a bit of awe. "I think it likes you."

Harry sheathed the sword again and shrugged. "Still don't know the first thing about using it, though."

With the Gryffindor sword tamed Kaycee began practicing again, casting spells over and over at targets for accuracy and power. She was beginning to feel the magic in herself much more acutely. It was strange, being able to use something that wasn't completely understandable or logical. When she cast a spell it felt almost intuitive, personal, and every hour she spent practicing only increased that feeling. A low hum filled her as she cast, barely audible, but most definitely there. It was a song, just out of hearing.

Kaycee had asked Hermione about the feeling after Harry had left to meet McGonagall and the other girl admitted she hadn't heard of it before. Ginny didn't either, and Kaycee wasn't comfortable enough around Ron and the other men to ask. The question was about something so base. She felt as if her magic was one of the deepest levels of her being, something that dictated who and what she was. Harry probably knew the answer, and she would be most comfortable asking him anyways.

"Want to try a few stunning spells against me?" Harry asked from beside her.

She lowered her wand and turned. "I wouldn't want to hurt you," Kaycee said. "These targets work just as well."

"You won't hurt me," Harry said with a smile, "I promise. A live target will be better to practice on."

Kaycee wanted to argue, but didn't. If Harry felt he wasn't in any danger from her spells then so be it. She was confident that she could stun him once or twice within a few minutes. Maybe it would teach him not to discount her ability. She grinned, slightly malevolently, as Harry set himself up. He gave her a nod after a few seconds.

"_Stupefy!_" Kaycee shouted, taking up a dueling stance and leveling her wand at Harry in one smooth motion. The red spell streak for Harry's chest, spanning the distance in the blink of an eye…

And was deflected with barely a swish by Harry.

"What the –" said Kaycee, mystified. He hadn't even cast a shield spell and her stunner hit the ceiling harmlessly. Just a swish, and Kaycee's concentrated efforts and her strongest stunner amounted to nothing. "How did you do that?" she demanded.

"You're thinking how I did that without using _Protego?_" At her nod Harry said, "If you know what spell your opponent is going to use then there are much more efficient ways of blocking it then a generalized shield. Your stunner, for example, uses Waffling's offensive base– you read about that in Magical Theory?" At her nod, Harry continued, "That method of spell delivery is simple and effective, therefore making the spell simple and effective, but it is also easily countered. Waffling's base relies on visible light to deliver the magic, so all I have to do to bend that light in the direction I want and the magic will follow. The flick I just used is even easier than casting _Lumos_." Harry then showed her how to adapt _Lumos_ to deflect a stunner, and then helped her perfect her timing after she learned the spell.

Harry practiced with Kaycee for the rest of the day, right up until it was time to head down to the Great Hall for dinner. Kaycee found that practicing Harry was immensely enjoyable not only because he was a good teacher and had much to show her, but also because she could flirt with him while he taught. Aside from sending a few pinching hexes to his backside, or stealing a kiss when he moved close enough, Kaycee listened to him studiously. She wanted to learn everything she could about magic, because she knew it was who she was. Every new spell she learned, every new bit of theory, meant that she was also learning about herself, about who and _what_ she was.

As she worked with Harry she felt the low hum within her swell to something more. It was audible now, the smallest score of instruments singing within her, pulsing as she cast spells stronger and stronger at his urging. She wanted to please him, to impress him, and she could feel something within herself respond to that.

"What are you thinking about," Harry asked quietly as they walked down the darkened corridors.

"About today and how much I learned. It's all so fascinating…" Kaycee pushed down a twinge of sadness and grief, just one of the countless many that had been gnawing at her the entire day. "You're such a good teacher."

Harry grinned, and she kissed him for it. She liked it when he smiled. After they broke, he said, "You're an even better student. I've never seen anyone learn so fast!"

Kaycee shrugged and looked forward. "I think it's more necessity than anything else." Harry nodded, but said nothing. They kept on walking in silence, moving down a flight of stairs that was the quickest route to the Great Hall. _Quickest on Thursdays and Mondays_, Kaycee thought, remembering that it led somewhere quite different on all other days. She shook her head, once again marveling at the bizarre qualities of magic.

"Harry? Earlier when we were practicing… I felt something strange whenever I did magic."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, looking concerned.

"It's nothing dangerous," said Kaycee. "It's just that whenever I cast a spell, or do anything at all with magic, I can feel it."

"That's normal," Harry said.

Kaycee shook her head, "I'm not talking about feeling the magic. Well I am, but it's different. When I was casting those spells at the targets over and over, I could feel something building up. My ears were pounding and I could hear humming, but it was almost like singing. And as I did it more I could hear the singing not only in my ears, but I could feel it in my toes and my arms and my chest… I felt like I was discovering more about myself– like I was just learning about who I am. I asked Hermione and she said she didn't know…"

"I'm not surprised Hermione didn't know," said Harry. "I've asked her along with anyone else I trust and only one person gave me an answer."

"Who was it?"

"Professor Dumbledore said he knew what it was I feel when I do magic, but…"

"But what?"

"He said it would be better if he didn't tell me. Said I had to figure it out on my own to truly understand it."

Kaycee sighed. "I'm a freak."

"I've said that a lot about myself," Harry said. "At least we're freaks together." Kaycee glared at him and was disarmed by another one of his smiles.

"Very funny, Harry."

Harry chuckled and wrapped his arm around her waist.

They entered the Great Hall to find Remus and another woman waiting at a table for them. Remus introduced Kaycee to the woman, who had outrageously pink hair, strong cheekbones, and a small chin. Overall, her face looked almost heart-shaped. Her name was Tonks, a Metamorphagus according to Remus.

"Wotcher!" she said when Kaycee shook her hand. "Remus has told me that your brother has some innate talent in him."

"Yeah," Kaycee said sadly, "He grew some claws and took a swipe at Harry."

Tonks' face fell, "He told me about that too. I think that he'll be better with something to occupy his time, and learning to control his abilities will take all of his concentration."

"Tonks is great," Harry said to her. "I've known her for over two years now. And Remus likes her quite a bit, so that should say something about her."

Remus blushed and Tonks swatted Harry's arm playfully. "Just like you two, eh Harry? Walking in here hand in hand like that. I'd say you two were a couple, but from what I've heard from Remus, I _know _you are!" Tonks looked at them conspiratorially, "Visited any broom cupboards yet?"

Harry blushed like Remus at the comment. "No."

"Well you'll have plenty of time to do that," Tonks said with a cheeky grin.

"Broom cupboard?" Kaycee asked. "What does that mean?"

"You know, a broom cupboard," said Tonks. "You might call it a closet. A nice, dark, private place to be alone with your… significant other."

"Oh…" Kaycee said, coloring slightly as well.

Remus chuckled at the young couples' embarrassment before steering the conversation back on track. "Let's eat something and we can talk about Matt."

They sat at the Gryffindor table and food appeared for them as they sat. "Excellent!" Tonks said. "I haven't had Hogwarts food since I was a student here!"

After starting into their food Kaycee asked Tonks, "So what exactly can a Metamorphagus do?"

Tonks thoughtfully swallowed her mouthful before responding. "Depending on how gifted they are, almost anything. I, for example, can change anything from the color of my hair, to the size and shape of my body." Her frame shortened and her hair shifted to electric blue, to brown, then to an exact copy of Kaycee's gold as she spoke. When she was done she was the size of a thirteen-year-old girl, sporting golden-blond hair and a mischievous grin. "The fact that Matt can form claws means he's a powerful Metamorphmagus."

"So he could change into an animal?"

"Oh no," said Tonks, "That's a completely different kind of wizard, called an Animagus, although from what I hear he probably could become one more easily than, say, you or Harry. Matt will be able to form claws and fins at the least. Back in history a few of the strongest Metamorphmagus were able to grow working wings. No one's been that strong for hundreds of years, though.

"Wow," Kaycee said. "How hard is it to learn all of this?"

With a look of concentration on her face Tonks changed back to her normal size and hair color. _As normal as pink hair can get_, Kaycee thought. "It's very difficult, actually," said Tonks. "Changing my appearance still takes intense concentration for me, but once it's changed I don't have to think about it at all. Learning will take many months, and it is customary to study as an apprentice and master."

"Like how I was under Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked, surprised. He hadn't known that about Metamorphmagus.

"Yes, except it is a very specialized apprenticeship. Harry's was much more common in the fact that a powerful wizard takes on a promising student to tutor one-on-one. Metamorphmagus are much rarer than your average above-average wizard." Tonks frowned at her apparently strange choice of words then shrugged.

"So Matt leaving to study with you is normal practice?"

"Yes. He'll be working at this from sunup to sundown for a while. Training your body to change at will is strenuous, as you might imagine."

Kaycee smiled and nodded. She really did like Tonks, just as Harry said she would. Her doubts about her and Harry's earlier decision for Matt's training were quelled. Now she just hoped Matt would ever forgive her for doing what was best for him.

*

Matt woke up to see three women hovering over him concernedly. Kaycee was there, looking worried and nervous as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes. "What happened?" Matt asked, "What am I doing…"

His voice trailed off as he remembered. He had attacked that sleaze Harry for killing his parents, or just as good as killing them. Then he must have been knocked out, probably by one of his lousy friends. His face turned to a grimace as he glared at his sister, the nurse, and the third, unknown woman with pink hair. "What do you want?"

"Matt…" Kaycee began hesitantly. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine."

"Do you remember anything about… before?"

Matt felt the rage filling him. "Yeah I do! I remember everything! And I hate him!" he said defiantly turning away from her and crossing his arms.

"Matt…" Kaycee said, her voice wavering. "This is Tonks. She's going to be teaching you a few things about yourself."

Matt turned an eye to Kaycee warily. "What do you mean?"

"Wotcher," said the woman with pink hair. _Tonks. What a stupid name_.

"Who are you? What are you gonna be teaching me?"

"I'm going to teach you how to be a Metamorphmagus. You'll be able to change how you look and disguise yourself so nobody will recognize you."

Matt looked at her doubtfully. "How're you gonna do that?"

"Simple," Tonks said. She closed her eyes for a second and scrunched her nose. Her face shifted smoothly, gaining weight and wrinkles. Before Matt realized what had happened an old woman was looking at him where Tonks' had been, although the woman still had pink hair. "You'll be able to do things like this and even more! Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Matt was intrigued, but still furious with Kaycee, so he didn't show it. "I can't do that. You're just trying to trick me."

"I'm not trying to trick you at all, Matt," the woman named Tonks said, making her face normal again. "You are a special boy with a very special talent. I want to teach you how to use them."

Tonks seemed nice enough to Matt, and she _had _been able to change her face just as she had promised. The offer to teach him was tempting to be sure, but Matt wasn't sure…

"Oh, come on, Matt. It'll be fun! We can practice together all day and at night we can have hot chocolate! You'll get to meet my friend Remus and everything. I think the three of us will get along grandly."

"We won't be staying here?" Matt looked at Kaycee to see her reaction. He saw none.

"What I'm going to teach you isn't very well known, and we Metamorphmagus keep our secrets close to our hearts. We call it an apprenticeship. Do you know what that means?"

Matt nodded, still looking towards Kaycee for a reaction. His sister wasn't giving anything away. Harry popped into Matt's mind, and how Kaycee and Harry were so close. It _sickened_ him. How could Kaycee still like Harry after what he had done to their mom and dad? It was entirely his fault!

Then it hit him. He could get revenge on Harry if he learned from Tonks. He could take the secrets of being a– what was the word? A Metamorphmagus? He could take those secrets and turn it against Harry. Matt smiled widely. Harry would never know what hit him…


End file.
